


Over the Gate

by SnailWrites (SymbioteSpideypool)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Easter, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gardens & Gardening, Homophobia, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Mugs, Slow Burn, Suburbia, Tea, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 49,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioteSpideypool/pseuds/SnailWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are going covert on this hunt while Sam does some digging in the library and works on interviewing residents in the neighborhood. The question is can they all survive the suburbs long enough to hunt down whatever monster is terrorizing the gated community at night? Dean and Castiel's fake marriage will either fall apart or cause WW3 before they find out what they're hunting down. Join Dean and Cas Singer as they struggle to overcome homophobic neighbors, militant garden committees, babysitting and many more catastrophes while pulling off a convincing newlywed act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving Day

Sam was typing away at his laptop while Dean sat on the grimy motel bed next to Cas. They were watching Star Wars together, and occasionally Castiel would ask a question to which Dean would reply “Just watch the movie” or “It’s made up Cas it’s not supposed to be accurate.”

“Hey guys, I think I found something,” Sam interrupted. He turned around the laptop so that Dean could see the article on the screen. Cas lost interest as Sam explained and went back to watching Star Wars.

“It’s just two towns over. Dogs and cats have been turning up mysteriously dead. They thought it was somebody going around leaving poison but just last week an elderly woman that lives in the neighborhood woke up in a pool of her own blood. Funny thing is, she wasn’t bleeding at all. Doctors don’t know how it happened and the blood samples have been rechecked but they don’t know where it came from. So far nobody’s died, but I think it’s only a matter of time.”

“What do you think it is?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know yet, but the woman, Betty Steadman, was apparently delusional when she woke up, screaming about how the devil was coming for her.”

“Sounds like we have a lead. Let’s get going.” Dean made to pack up their stuff, but Sam stopped him.

“There’s one problem,” said Sam.

Dean looked at him, “What’s that?”

“Well, it’s a gated community and we’ll need to stick around for a while until we can figure out what this thing is. Typically you can’t just hang around a gated community unless you want the cops getting involved. We’re gonna have to go covert for this one.”

“You mean, like, buy a house?” Dean asked.

“Yup,” Sam nodded, “But this place has certain standards. It’s more family oriented so you’ve got young families with kids and older couples living near their grandchildren. A pair of bachelors living together would be way too suspicious, and the point is to not draw attention,” he frowned, leaning back in his chair and staring at the screen for inspiration.

“Why don’t you pretend to be married?” asked Cas, only half paying attention.

“Huh?” asked Sam.

“Whoa there. I draw the line at dating my own brother. I’ve had enough subtext shit shoved in my face. I’m not gonna fuel that.”

“I could pretend to be married to one of you,” Cas offered.

Sam thought about it for a bit, “You know, that actually might work. A pair of gay newlyweds, looking for the apple pie life, move to a family friendly community so that they can start their own family.”

“Hey, I’ve pulled plenty of covers before, but I can’t do that lovey dovey crap. If somebody has to marry the angel then you do it.”

“Well one of us has to go around and interview the neighbors and then go through the archives at the local library. I mean if you really want to do all the heavy lifting instead of going to dinner parties and swapping cookie recipes with old ladies…” he trailed of. 

Dean groaned in frustration but gave in, “Fine I’ll do it, but you owe me.”

“Mhm, and should we say your wedding was in Spain or LA?”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

~~

“Ok Dean. You can keep the impala for this one but you have to wear the engagement ring.”

“Fuck no! Cas already agreed to do that.”

“Dean, it’s just a cheap fake diamond ring, and no one is going to believe that you proposed to Cas.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam just shook his head, “Remember, you got married in Madrid last month on the seventh and spent your honeymoon touring Europe and now you’ve moved back here to settle down. Tell me your name again.”

“Dean Singer. Now what do you mean by-“

“Okay, great,” Sam cut him off. “I’m going to be staying in a hotel nearby. You have my number, and I’ll be in tomorrow to start interviewing people.” He shoved a small black box into Dean’s hands and got out at the used car place just outside of town. “Wear the rings,” he reminded Dean before hopping out of the car and walking away.

Dean drove off after Sam left. “Why wouldn’t I propose first? I’m the proposing type.”

“I do not believe you would have in the given scenario,” Cas piped up from the back seat.

“Shit! Cas, we talked about this. Don’t freak me out when I’m driving. Where were you anyways?”

“Shopping.”

“Shopping?” Dean spared a glance in his rearview mirror to look quizzically at the angel. 

“Yes. Sam told me I would have to wear different clothing each day if I was going to be human.”

Okay, here,” he tossed the black jewelry case back at Cas. “Put on one of the gold ones and the silver one

“Sam instructed me to wear only the gold one and leave the other ones for you.”

“That sonofabitch,” Dean swore under his breath. “Alright, fine. Whatever. Gimme the rings.”

Cas handed back the box and Dean slipped on the rings while he was driving, grumbling under his breath about how unfair the whole situation was. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen, Sammy.

“Hey, Cas. Get up here.”

With a soft flutter of wings Cas appeared in the passenger seat.

“Since Sam is busy you get shotgun, okay?” He held out his phone, “Now read me whatever Sam sent so I can keep driving.”

Cas fumbled with the phone for a moment before finding the texts from Sam. “He says to remember not to swear in front of anybody. And you’re an ex vet?”

“I’m out of the military.”

“Oh. And I am supposed to be an alternative healer?”

Dean snorted, “He means you’re a hippie with a degree that isn’t in art. You believe in herbal teas and meditation and shit. Think calming auras and faith healing. Help people feel better with magic.”

“But I can heal people.”

“With magic. Congratulations, you already fit the part.”

Cas looked disgruntled but continued to read. “We met after you had been honorably discharged from service and sent home in a coma. You were awarded a purple heart. Why would you be given a dead heart?”

“It’s a medal. Keep reading.”

“I revived you through biofield therapy and we fell in love.”

“Sammy did a real good job with this one. Explains why you would be, well, you.”

“And he gives a reason for your irrational paranoia as well as hunter reflexes and scars.”

Dean sputtered, “That’s not! I, I’m not irrational. It’s pretty much a given that something will try to kill me while we’re here. That’s just common sense!”

“He also says we should stop by the store and purchase some food and embellishments for the house. The house should already be furnished but we still need things like curtains and bedsheets and silverware.”

Dean groaned but got off the highway to look for a store.

~~

“Organic food Dean. We should also pick up some incenses and herbal teas as I am to be highly proficient in their medicinal use.” He almost seemed to puff up at the idea of being an expert at something. 

“Even if you’re eating that rabbit food I still want real food,” Dean insisted, shoving chocolate syrup into the shopping cart.

“I do not need to eat. You will be consuming any food we purchase.”

“I can put up with lettuce if it’s inside a burger but there is no way you’re getting me to drink that herbal tea shit.”

Cas looked him dead in the eye and dropped a carton of dried chamomile into the cart. He didn’t look away as he reached for a tea strainer either. 

“You little bitch,” Dean ran down the aisle and came back with several mugs, carefully dumping them into the cart. “If you get tea then I get to pick your mugs.”

Cas pulled out one of the mugs reading “I <3 ANAL” and sighed. “Won’t you have to use these as well?”

“Nope.” He popped the p, “Mine’s the giraffe.”

“Very well,” Cas begrudgingly accepted his fate and they moved on to argue about the merits of frozen yogurt over sorbet.

~~

Dean had to speed all the way there because they had taken so long shopping. They made it just in time and Dean got out to talk to the guard at the gate. He showed his ID and explained he was there to move in when the guard got a call on his radio. Moments later he opened the gate and let them through. 

Dean drove slowly down row after row of identical houses with pristine lawns and screaming children playing with a basketball in several driveways. “Which house is it again?”

“423. It should be just up ahead.”

They pulled into the empty driveway and got out just as the landlord arrived. She was wearing a black cocktail dress and Dean couldn’t help but think she was overdressed for the suburban mom look most women here had.

They signed off on the last few papers and she handed over the keys before driving off. Dean opened the door and started looking around while Cas started unloading the contents of the impala. 

“Remember to walk!” Dean called over his shoulder before checking around the house. Nothing was odd or out of place and they had most of the furniture and appliances they needed already. He loaded up the dishwasher while Cas put away the food they had bought, reserving a shelf in the small pantry for his herbal remedies.

Dean hung up the baby blue curtains and packed away Castiel’s new clothes in the closet, throwing his stuff on the floor under Cas’s neatly folded things. He needed to wash most of his clothes anyhow.

Dean had to help Cas put the cover over the mattress because even angels have trouble with the corners when forced to stop using their powers. 

They didn’t have too much else to put away since they only bought necessities. Dean’s phone rang and he picked it up, “Hello.”

“Hey Dean,” said Sam, “Did you get settled in?”

“Yeah we got all the necessities. Except toothbrushes. I forgot toothbrushes.”

“Okay, well make a list of whatever else you need and add it to this one. Do you have any paper?”

Dean looked around, “I’ll add it to the list.”

Sam sighed, “Alright, I’ll just text you the list. I think I’m gonna hit the library tomorrow before I head in so I don’t show up to soon.”

“Alright.”

“I’ve been photoshopping some pictures, so make sure you get a printer, photo paper, and some frames while you’re out.”

“Why do we need pictures? It’s not like anybody’s visiting.”

“Dean, you live in the suburbs. You have no privacy. Just get the frames.”

“Fine. We’re going in a few minutes. Call you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing. Make sure you get everything on the list.” 

He hung up and yelled at Cas from the top of the stairs. “Hey Cas, we have to go buy more shit.”

~~

Dean ended up caving and letting Cas transport most of the stuff they bought to the house because there was no way in hell it would all fit in the car. He still didn’t regret keeping baby for this one. No way was he trading her in for a minivan. By the time they got back and got everything sorted Sam had emailed the altered photographs and sent Cas a blueprint for a purple heart medal. Cas was very good at changing forks into replica military awards. They were hanging pictures when the doorbell rang. It was a cheery tune that grated at Dean’s ears and went on for far too long. He’d figure out how to fix that later.

Opening the door he was met with a blonde woman in jeans and a very pink t-shirt advocating some sort of charity run. She had the “I’d like to speak with your manager haircut” and an aggressively happy smile on.

“Hello, my name’s Denise, Denise Woodcock.” She stuck out her hand and Dean gave her a firm handshake while choking back an immature laugh at her name. ”Dean Singer,” he replied. Woodcock would have been the perfect cover name for two gay men. Really he’s disappointed Sam didn’t come up with it instead. 

“On behalf of the Pinegrove Neighborhood Association Committee I’d like to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m the committee president so if you have any questions or concerns feel free to stop by. I live in 440 just down the way. You came by at just the right time. We’re having a barbecue at Stan and Michelle’s tomorrow. Please come by and mingle, everybody’s very welcoming here and we’ll all be happy to get to know you.”

She had a slight accent, but he couldn’t seem to place it. He was not looking forward to this barbecue though. 

“Dean? Who is it?” Cas asked from the kitchen.

“Denise. She’s from the neighborhood thing,” Dean replied.

Cas must’ve been curious since he wandered over with a warm mug in hand full of some sickly colored liquid, a result of his herbal experimentation. Denise visibly flinched when Cas appeared. She never lost her smile though. She waited expectantly to be introduced.

Maybe this could be fun, Dean thought and slid an arm around Cas’s waist, grinning as Denise’s eyes widened. “This is my husband, Cas.”

“Oh, how…” her smile stretched thin, “Nice,” she finally decided. 

Yes, this could be fun. “We can’t wait for the barbeque. It’ll be nice to meet the new neighbors.” Dean gushed. Castiel chose that moment to take of sip of his concoction and Dean knew for a fact that he was using the mug with “I’m really gay” printed on the bottom. Denise forgot to respond for a moment so Castiel tried inviting her in.  
“It’s still a bit messy, I’m afraid. But I could get you a cup of tea?” he offered.

With her mouth still gaping slightly Denise blinked away her surprise and shook her head quickly, “No! No, I should really get going. So sorry, but I’ve got to start dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you Denise,” Cas said in monotone.

“See you tomorrow,” Dean chirped before closing the door.

Dean and Cas looked at each other in silence for a minute before Cas said, “Well, she seemed… nice.”

Dean started laughing and went to hang up the rest of the picture frames on the walls. “I don’t think too many people here are going to like us.”

Castiel nodded sagely, “I don’t think I’m going to like too many of them either.”

“That’s the spirit! Can you hand me that nail? We should put up some wards after this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really looking forward to petty suburbia wars. Denise is going down, and sometime in the future Dean is going to have a run in with the local girl scout troupe. Cas may or may not declare war on the lawn and garden regulations committee and there will be a scandal in paradise. If you have any ideas or suggestions for hilarious to serious misadventures feel free to comment or send me an ask at my tumblr, snail-writes-shit. I can't think of enough petty suburban problems. I'm also open to prompts and suggestions! Thanks so much for reading. Comments and critiques are much appreciated.


	2. Backyard BBQ

“Cas, you almost done yet?” Dean called from the kitchen where he was drizzling fudge sauce over a plate heaped high with warm brownies. He figured he could whip up something to bring to the barbeque. He didn’t know what the etiquette was for these things, but bringing a couple plates full of homemade brownies never hurt anyone. 

Cas appeared behind Dean. “Is this adequate?”

Dean almost knocked over the brownie stack when he jumped. “Cas, I know the stairs are intimidating, but just walk down them everybody else. “

“My apologies. It just seems so… inconvenient.”

Dean grunted before turning to look at Cas. “Is that a pink sweater vest?”

Cas looked down at his clothes then back up at Dean. “Yes?”

“Come on man. It’s too hot outside for something like that. Do you have any button ups or anything?”  
Castiel just stared.

“Like the shirt you were wearing before, but a different one.”

Cas made a small noise of understanding then disappeared.

“Cas! You had better walk down those stairs or so help me I will beat you with this spatula!” Dean threatened while drizzling fudge sauce over his last batch of brownies.

Miraculously Cas walked down the stairs in a powder pink button up tucked into his tan khakis. 

“Pink?”

Cas looked down at the shirt, frowning slightly. “I like the color.”

“Okay, whatever. Here, lemme roll your sleeves up a little.”

Dean folded back the sleeves and rolled them up to Cas’s elbows. “There,” he said undoing the top button and then smoothing the fabric over Cas’s shoulders, “perfect.”

Dean looked up into Cas’s face, suddenly noticing how close they had gotten. He cleared his throat and stepped back, hands dropping to his sides as he averted his eyes from Cas’s stare. “I mean the sleeves. The… you look, it’s good.”

He motioned towards the brownies, “Grab a plate. Let’s go crash a backyard barbecue. And this time, no flying.”

Cas grumbled a bit about having to walk all the way to their neighbor’s door, but quickly gave up as the screaming children in the backyard caught his attention.

“Are they being tortured?”

“No, kids just do that.”

“For entertainment?”

“You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until they get their grubby little hands on these,” he gestured to the plates of brownies they carried. “Ring the bell for me, would ya?”

Cas, having the only free hand pushed the small white button. They didn’t have to wait long before the door was opened and a very bubbly Michelle led them inside. They exchanged introductions and took the brownies to the kitchen to wait with the other desserts until after the hamburgers and hotdogs had all been eaten. 

They were then ushered into the backyard where they endured a flurry of names and faces and idle probing conversations that Dean and Cas were in no way prepared for. They made up most of their lives as they went along, and for once it seemed to be working out pretty well. 

“Molly and I met at Uni. She was a nursing student and I lost a bet and was volunteering for the blood drive. I didn’t like needles and she had to talk me down from a panic attack. I asked her out and she said yes. I must’ve done something right, because here we are,” they all laughed at Mark’s story. 

“So how did you two meet?” asked Molly. 

Crap. Dean forgot that bit. He looked to Cas for help, eyes silently pleading for Cas to save his ass.

“It’s quite a story actually,” Cas started. “When I met Dean he was in a coma and the doctors didn’t count on him waking up anytime soon, if at all. At the time I had been studying alternative medicines and methods of treatment, and was attempting to cure coma patients with biotherapy. My research had led to a high success rate. I’d been able to bring every single patient back to a state of consciousness, all except for Dean. He kept slipping though my fingers no matter what I did, but one day I pulled him back with me and he followed. I like to think I made my mark on him then, but he was rather… disoriented and attacked me when he awoke. I was fine but he felt bad and offered to buy me lunch. We hit it off and the rest is history,” he shrugged as if shy and took another sip of his lemonade. 

If Dean had been eating his burger he probably would have choked on it. That was definitely the story Sam had made up, but it also wasn’t. It was too familiar for that. But there’s no way that Cas could have… No.

Molly smiled widely, “That’s so sweet. I would have turned tail and ran if one of my patients attacked me.”

“I would have hyperventilated,” Mark added and they laughed. 

“What did you think of Cas when you first met him?” Molly asked Dean.

They all looked at him expectantly. He swallowed the suddenly dry lump of hamburger in his throat and answered, “I thought he was trying to kill me, so I stabbed him and tried to run.” He smiled grimly, “A year off your feet is hell on your muscles though, couldn’t even make it to the door. He helped me into bed with a goddamn knife in his chest and told me to wait while he went to get the nurse.”

“Oddly enough they were more interested in helping me than they were in helping Dean at the time,” Cas reflected.

Dean grinned through another bite of hamburger and playfully shoved Cas with his elbow. Cas smiled back and handed over his lemonade when Dean motioned for it.

“Cas, you haven’t eaten anything. Can I get you anything off the grill?” asked Mark hopefully. He really seemed to love being at the grill. Dean could respect that.

“He’s vegetarian,” Dean said before Cas could open his mouth. 

“Oh, can I get you a veggie burger then? We’ve got vegan options and gluten free buns. The Johnson’s kid can’t eat anything with gluten in it.”

“Good thing we brought gluten free brownies then,” Dean added. 

“Oh, really? That’s great! Denise brought some brownies over too, but they weren’t gluten free. I wasn’t sure the poor kid was going to have any dessert.”

“No need to thank me. I’m a saint, I know.”

“Saint Monica maybe,” huffed Cas.

“I’m sorry who’s your patron saint again? I forgot which one actually likes assholes,” Dean snarked. 

Molly and Mark were interrogating Dean on his military service when Denise butted into the conversation.

“Mark. Molly. I see you’ve met the new… neighbors.”

“Oh yeah, they’re pretty incredible. Dean was just telling us about how he served in, where was it again.”

“Most of the locations are classified but I can say I fought in Afghanistan.”

“Yes, he said that’s where he got the purple heart!” Mark told Denise. 

“Thank you for your service,” Desnise smiled tightly. “It must have been especially… difficult for someone like you.”

Molly suddenly became very interested in her drink and Mark scampered off to the grill.

Dean handed the plastic cup and paper plate with half a hamburger on it to Cas and chuckled lowly. “For someone like me?” he asked, hands coming to resting on his hips.

“Yes. I can’t imagine it could have been easy for the rest of the men in your group either,” her gaze turned sharp. 

“Is there something you would like to say to my face, Denise.”

Dean towered over her, but she glared right back in her green flats and floral patterned skirt. “You’re just trying to make yourself into a martyr aren’t you,” she sniffed. “Always wanting everything to be an attack on your lifestyle. You people are all the same. I’m not going to stand for it, and you aren’t going to be spreading around any of your homosexual propaganda.” She leaned in close and growled, “Not to the children. I’ve got a son here today and I’d appreciate it if you stayed far, far away from him.”

Dean took a deep breath, “Lady-“

He didn’t get more than one word out before Cas shoved him aside and leaned down close into Denise’s face and whispered in a voice so hard it was like steel, “You fucking bitch.”

There was an audible gasp from their growing audience and a father placed his hands over his daughter’s ears. 

“Listen close because I am only going to say this once. Dean has quite literally died for complete strangers. People like you,” he jabbed her in the sternum with his cup of lemonade, “that can’t quite seem to realize just what a waste of oxygen they are because they’re too caught up in satisfying their own selfish egos. After everything he’s seen and done for people like you,” he jabbed again, “You will show him some respect.”

Cas straightened up, still looming over Denise whose eyes were bugging out of her face while her mouth opened and closed like a fish.

Cas turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance. People parted like the Red Sea before him, and Dean’s gaze lingered on his back.

“Somehow I believe you a little more about the knife thing,” Molly stage whispered to Dean after Denise had fled the scene and a low buzz of conversation had started up again. 

“He’s pretty incredible,” Dean agreed, still just as shocked as everyone else.

“I have a feeling you two are going to be the gossip of the neighborhood for quite a while.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be giving people plenty of reasons to gossip.”

Cas returned with a veggie burger and Molly asked him how it was. He took a thoughtful bite and decided, “Like molecules.”

They laughed and Cas looked puzzled. 

Dean’s phone rang, Sam was calling. He picked up, “Hey.”

“Hey, Dean. Listen, there’s a history of weird deaths and attacks going on here, before the suburbs were built. I don’t have enough time to finish going through all of these and interview people today, so I might not be able to start interviews until tomorrow. What’s that noise?”

“That would be the sound of a dozen kids hopped up on fudge brownies and ice cream jumping on a trampoline.”

“I’m going to pretend I never asked. Just stay inside at night and look out for anything weird. See you later.”

“Bye,” he hung up and told Cas that Sam wouldn’t be in today.

Dean wandered into the kitchen where the old ladies club was gathered. He was told someone had brought pie and he did not want to miss out.

The old ladies didn’t seem to mind him as he snuck in and grabbed a slice of pecan pie. He took a bite and groaned. Fuck heaven, this was divine. He must’ve been louder than he thought because the conversation was cut short and everyone was staring at him. Dean swallowed and blushed, trying to beat a hasty retreat, but he was stopped by a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. 

“Just a moment young man.”

Dean slowly turned around, plastering an awkward smile on his face.

“If you liked that poorly made thing then you’ll love my blackberry pie over here.” She dragged him back to the desert table, cutting him a slice of blackberry pie and holding it out to him expectantly.

Dean took the plate.

“Gladys, give it a rest already. My pecan is better than your blackberry any day,” another woman complained.

“Oh really? Then whose pie is almost gone already?”

“That’s because you keep cramming it down people’s throats. Let them pick on their own.”

Dean took a bite of the pie while they were arguing. “Holy fuck,” he whispered reverently.

All eyes were on him again. “Fudge,” Dean corrected. “Holy fudge. That’s what I said,” he tried to say through a mouthful of pie.

“So, what do you think?” Gladys asked.

“Just let the poor boy go already.”

“These are the best pies I have ever eaten,” Dean said seriously and shoved another bite in his mouth.

“But which one is better?” Gladys impatiently asked.

Dean shook his head and swallowed a painfully large bite. “I can’t do that. That’s like asking me to choose between my car and my husband.”

There was a brief pause and pecan pie lady started laughing while Gladys threw up her hands in exasperation and left him alone.

Dean watched her walk away before leaning down and whispering to the pecan pie lady, “The blackberry is a close second.”

The old woman chuckled, “Just like your car?”

Dean reached for a plate of cookies and grabbed one covered in M&Ms. “I mean it’s one sexy car, but it’s still not as much fun to ride, if you know what I mean,” he winked.

The old woman laughed and slapped Dean on the shoulder as he smiled around his cookie. “You know, you remind me of my late wife, Ruth,” She twisted a gold band around her ring finger and smiled sadly.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. You know, I could get you the recipe for that pecan pie if you’d like.”

“God, yes! If I weren’t already married I’d propose.”

The woman laughed and held out her hand, “Betty Steadman.”

Dean took her hand, “Dean Singer.”

“I’d love to meet your husband. You should bring him with you to my place later today so I can give you the recipe.”

“Sounds good.”

“I live in 406, towards the gate. You can’t miss it. I’ve got as many gnomes as the lawn and garden committee will let me have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Betty, and yes she will show up quite a bit since she's one of the only people that actually likes Dean. I'm fairly certain someone is going to die next chapter. No it's not Denise, sorry. Comments and critiques are much appreciated!


	3. Visiting Betty

“Dean, I don’t understand why I have to come with you. Can’t you interrogate the elderly without me?” Cas complained on their way to Betty’s house later that day.

“I’m not interrogating her. I’m being neighborly, and she promised me one hell of a pie. I can’t say no to this pie Cas,” Dean said seriously. 

Cas huffed in frustration.

“Besides, she wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, offer her condolences for getting stuck with me or something?”

“What reason would she have for doing that?”

“It’s not… never mind. Just smile and nod until I get the recipe and then we can run.”

When they got to the door Dean reached out to grab the brass knocker and was meet with the yipping of several dogs. The frantic barking increased as the door opened. One of the three dogs, a tan shiba inu dashed out to the sidewalk. The other two, both black dachshunds, tried their best to shred Dean and Cas’s pant legs. 

Cas stood still, staring at the little yipping dogs at his feet, while Dean asked Betty if he should go get the shiba for her. She reassured him that he would come back on his own and ushered them inside. True to her word the shiba came trotting back in with a huge doggy smile slapped on its muzzle just before she closed the door behind them.

She led them into a sitting room with a squishy old couch and two faded green recliners. Doilies covered everything as far as the eye could see. It was like walking into Spiderman’s retirement home. The air was lazy, drifting past sunbeams shining through sheer pastel orange curtains and resting on the dog hair coated shag carpet. He briefly wondered if she owned a Roomba. Did old ladies get Roombas or did they just vacuum everything themselves? There were a disturbing number of owl trinkets staring at him with large, dead eyes from around the room. Dean sat down on the squishy couch with exactly seven doilies on it and found he was missing Cas.

Cas was standing behind the couch, looking at Betty’s collection of glass figurines in an old wooden display cabinet. She followed him over to the cabinet and said, “My wife, Ruth, was the collector. I can’t bring myself to get rid of them.”

“They’re fascinating,” said Cas. “I had no idea that a glass medium allowed for such fine details.”

“You and me both. That one there,” she pointed to a tiny multicolored butterfly resting on a smooth glass hand, “she proposed to me with that.” Betty took Cas’s hand, the one with the ring, “back then we didn’t even think about getting married, but we could promise the same thing. She told me it was about the butterfly symbolizing love or something poetic like that. Of course when she said it, it sounded beautiful.”

“Butterflies are powerful symbols of life and resurrection. I imagine she was trying to convey the manner in which your love for each other would transcend not only societal constraints, but also life itself,” Cas replied.

Betty laughed, “Yes, just like that.”

Cas took his hand back and pointed to a small spun glass ship, “What flags does that vessel fly?”

“Russian. Ruth’s mother lived in Russia before she came to the US, and when Ruth visited Anadyr, where her mother grew up, she went shopping and found this. She also did some sightseeing and found that swan,” she pointed to a blue swan, dipping its neck into half a heart, “while she was in Moscow.”

“Did she enjoy Russia?” asked Castiel.

“Oh, heavens no. She couldn’t stand the cold. She told me she was never going back.”

Dean was stuck on the couch scratching the heads of two little plump dachshunds while trying to avoid the slobbering affections of the shiba. 

“Harold, leave the poor man alone, he only has two hands,” she scolded. 

The shiba whined and sat down partly on Dean and partly on the couch, huffing dejectedly.

“Oh, you poor neglected child. Come here,” she sat down on one of the recliners and patted her lap. Harold stood up and vaulted off the couch, using Dean’s crotch as a springboard. 

“Holy shit motherfuck!” Dean grabbed his crotch.

Betty started laughing and Cas said, “Dean, that’s hardly appropriate.”

Dean cleared his throat and blinked back tears, “Good to know you care, darling.”

Cas ignored him and sat next to Dean on the couch. One of the dachshunds waddled over and plopped down in his lap. He regarded the dog in his lap as it looked up at him with big, sad brown eyes. 

“Hello,” he addressed the dog.

The dog yipped at him. 

“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the lord. It is nice to meet you.”

The dog let out a low keening whine and then flopped down in his lap.

“Very well,” Cas said and began scratching the dog.

Dean looked between Betty and Cas and stammered his way through an explanation, “He, ah… he’s very… spiritually inclined. Biofields and auroras and… uh, stuff?”

Betty hid her smile and nodded seriously. She asked Cas, “Oh? And what did she tell you dear?”

“She introduced herself as Abagail and asked that I scratch her back.”

Betty considered him for a moment. “And is Castiel your full name?”

“Yes, although Cas is the name I go by here.”

“I see. And you said you were an angel of the lord?”

Dean cut in, “It’s just a joke we have. See when I first met him I was ah, really out of it. And I thought Cas was an angel because when I stabbed him with a knife, he didn’t even notice and helped me back into bed.”

The room was awkwardly silent just long enough for Dean to realize how badly he had fucked up. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands, earning a whine of protest from the other dachshund in his lap.

“Dean was referring to the first time we met,” Castiel supplied. I was working with biofields at the time, experimental procedures, to help coma patients.”

Dean nursed his bruised ego by petting the dog in his lap while Cas told the story of how they first met. He’d heard it so much lately that he almost remembered it better than his actual first encounter with the angel. Almost. It’s hard to forget when somebody leaves a literal impression on you. His hand came up to subconsciously rub at his clothed shoulder. Who could have guessed that the all-powerful dick he had met in a barn that day would turn out to be his best friend, or that they would get fake married and keep old ladies company in exchange for pies made of nut flavored crack.

He rejoined the conversation as Cas finished talking.

“My, that’s an incredible story,” Betty chuckled. “It wasn’t nearly as exciting when I met Ruth, oh but we were certainly the scandal of the town. We lived in the middle of nowhere in Darbyville, Ohio once upon a time. She was the mayor’s fiancée and I was the town heartbreaker. I went through every eligible bachelor in town, which was about five at the time. I wanted to marry somebody that was going places, specifically out of Ohio,” she made a face. “Ohio was far too close to my mother and my grandmother for my liking. You know how family is.”

Cas nodded in agreement and Dean smiled a tight lipped smile.

“Well it just so happened that a new face was coming into town, a politician. I can’t remember his name or his office, but he was absolutely awful. I couldn’t stand him, but he had money and means. I had him wrapped around my finger within a week and after a month he proposed. Now at the time Ruth had gotten married to the mayor, so we started seeing each other quite a lot.”

“But she was married,” protested Dean.

“Hush dear, I haven’t gotten there yet. Me and Ruth, we were inseparable. We had girls’ night out near every night, and we giggled like little girls in church together and talked about politicians behind our men’s’ backs. We were best friends, and I fell in love.”

“Did you follow through and marry the politician?” asked Cas.

“Shh, Cas. Let her tell the story,” Dean reprimanded. 

Cas shot him a look, but didn’t interrupt again.

“No, I didn’t marry him. I gave him back the ring and my mother wouldn’t look at me for weeks. I was staying late at city hall one day because I had left something of mine in my ex-fiancé’s office, and I would rather sneak around like a criminal than speak to his face at the time. It was terribly embarrassing to see him. You just didn’t break off engagements to wealthy men back in the day. Anyways, I was searching through his desk when I heard a scream. I was frightened out of my mind, so I found the gun in my ex-fiancé’s desk drawer and snuck down the hall. I’m surprised nobody heard me coming; I was shaking like a leaf. There were noises coming from the mayor’s office down the hall, so I tiptoed over to the door and I peek in. All I could see was Ruth on that desk, begging for mercy and that man standing over her,” her face turned hard. “I didn’t ask questions. I shot first.”

Dean let out an audible gasp and Castiel’s eyes widened.

“Now keep in mind it was the good old fifties, so I knew me and Ruth were facing criminal charges. You could be admitted to the mental ward just for not smiling for your husband enough back then. I ran in and Ruth and I had a good cry because I just saved her life and shot a man and we were both condemned. She sobered up before I did and told me we had to play this right. She told me to put the gun back where I had found it and then she went about arranging the office. Ruth opened the window and moved the body best she could after making sure he was dead and gone. I nailed him in the back of the skull, by some miracle. She opened the window and then gave me cover story before smearing blood over her clothes and hands and screaming like the dickens. I actually fainted then and when I came to officers were looking after me and taking mine and Ruth’s statements. I told them I had come to drop off her hand mirror I had borrowed and had heard a shot on the way up the stairs. I ran up the rest of the way when I heard a scream and promptly fainted at the scene. The idiots believed us. There was no one else in town that had a reason to hate him. No one but Ruth. I knew we had to leave before they started getting suspicious, so we packed up and hit the road with my father’s car. We drove several states and started over. Obviously the first thing you do after killing a man and getting away with it is buy a good bottle of wine and get drunk. In that drunken stupor we admitted our love for each other, and I had the best night of my life,” Dean laughed along with her. “Finding work was awful, but we made it. We survived and we kept our relationship secret for the better part of thirty years. That’s when she proposed with that glass butterfly.”

“Did they ever figure out it was you?” Dean asked in awe.

“No, the poor fools thought it was the town drunk that had haphazardly fired the shot, and that Ruth and I had run away with broken hearts to start afresh.”

“I believe your story was much more exciting than ours,” Cas accused.

“Well I didn’t get stabbed,” she retorted.

“What’s this one’s name?” Dean interrupted, gesturing to the sleepy dachshund in his lap.

“Oh that’s Camille. She and Abby are sisters. I’ve had them for eight years now. Harold here is the baby. He’s only five.”

Harold perked up at his name, but was coaxed back into relaxing by a scratch behind the ears.

“You know, we were thinking of getting a dog. Is the neighborhood very pet friendly, or should we look into an indoor pet instead?”

Betty thought for a moment, “Lately I’ve been keeping my dogs inside. They say somebody’s been going around and leaving out poison, because cats and dogs have been turning up dead.”

“Have the police looked into this?” Dean feigned surprise.

“Oh, sure. But they couldn’t find any poisoned chunks of meat or traps lying around. It’s a gated community. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and I know there’s no one here that could have done it.”

“Then who did it?”

Betty gave Dean a long hard stare, “I was out late, walking back from our Tuesday knitting circle when I heard a horse. I thought, that can’t be right. Horses aren’t allowed here. But then I heard hooves and a horrible screeching and suddenly I couldn’t see anything. When I woke up the next morning paramedics were hovering over me and I was lying on that sidewalk in a puddle of blood.” She shuddered, “I haven’t seen so much blood in my life. I thought I was dying, but the paramedics told me it wasn’t mine. They got me cleaned up and took me to the hospital, just in case. I was perfectly fine. The strangest thing was the police checked the blood samples from the pool of blood and it matched mine. I don’t know how it happened, but it was my blood. I don’t think the police are ever going to find the criminal.”

“What did you tell the police when you woke up?” Castiel asked.

“Well I wasn’t in my right mind at the time, so I was raving about the devil hunting me down. When I calmed down I told them I remembered someone on a horse, but they thought I was still crazy. There isn’t a single horse in this city.”

“That is certainly mysterious,” Cas mused. “Perhaps we should get a fish.”

Dean fell asleep while Cas and Betty talked about owls. The last thing Dean remembered was Cas describing the medicinal uses and spiritual implications of owls. 

An hour later Cas had finished knitting his first lumpy potholder under Betty’s careful supervision. Cas looked at Dean, curled up on the couch with an arm around a dachshund and the other two dogs squished together on top of his head. It was a wonder he didn’t suffocate. 

“I should probably take him home now. He’s still worn out from moving,” Cas said.

“Oh, let me get you that pie recipe I promised Dean.” Betty wandered off to the kitchen and Cas carefully extracted Dean from the dogpile.

“Dean, wake up,” he shook Dean awake.

Dean awoke with a start, sending the dogs running. He looked around wildly, trying to recognize his surroundings.

“We are at Betty’s house. You fell asleep.”

Dean relaxed back into the couch, and stretched languidly, like a cat. He stood up and they said their goodbyes to Betty before they left.

“Sorry for falling asleep on you,” Dean apologized. 

“It’s not your fault. Growing boys need their sleep.”

“Thank you for having us over this evening. I enjoyed learning to knit,” Cas said.

“Any time, dear. Feel free to visit again,” Betty closed the door and Dean and Cas walked home.

“She was nice,” observed Cas.

“Mhmm,” responded Dean drowsily.

“Should I fly you home, or would you rather walk?”

“I c’n walk. Lazy angels,” Dean muttered.

Cas rolled his eyes and they walked home. Dean was fishing for his keys when they heard the faint sound of hooves striking pavement. Betty’s story floated though his head before the quiet night was torn with a scream.

“Shit,” Dean fumbled to get the key in the lock, “Cas go see what’s happening. I’m gonna grab a gun.”

Cas disappeared and Dean ran inside, pulling a gun and Ruby’s knife out from the potted plant in the entryway. He tore back outside and ran down the street to where he could see Cas, hunched over a still figure on the sidewalk.

The sound of galloping hooves was gone, and when Dean reached Cas the angel shook his head. Dean looked down at the kid on the ground. He was just a kid, maybe in high school. He was too late.

“No, no, no,” Dean checked the kid’s pulse. He tossed his cellphone to Cas. “Dial 911 and tell them where we are and that there’s a kid that’s not breathing.” He got down on his knees and started chest compressions.

After Castiel called an ambulance, he tapped two fingers to the child’s head. “Keep going, I just ensured that he would be able to make it long enough for the ambulance to arrive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided not to kill off Betty. Mostly because I really like Betty and so did you all. Also I'm not sure if the kid is going to die or not. Either way it's going to get a little dark before I go back to suburbia shenanigans. Bonus points to anybody that can guess what the monster is. Thanks so much for reading. Comments and critiques are appreciated.


	4. Teenager Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New game! Every chapter I'm going to take one sentence out of context and stick it up here for fun. 
> 
> “You cheating bastard,” Dean accused.

Dean slapped his knife down on the counter, “What the hell just happened?”

Cas walked around Dean and flicked on the electric teapot next to the sink. “A sixteen year old boy experienced a heart attack.”

Dean leaned on the counter, thinking. “Kids don’t have heart attacks.”

“It is certainly less common, but children can experience heart attacks.”

“Shut up, Cas. I’m thinking. It’s gotta be something about horses.”

Cas packed a mix of herbs into a tea strainer and poured hot water into Dean’s giraffe mug.

“It can’t be a unicorn, they leave behind a mess. Not a hippogriff, no eagle sounds. Maybe the heart attack was caused from stress or fear, so whatever it is doesn’t have to be bloodthirsty. Like a Pegasus. No, even if the kid had a weak heart that still doesn’t explain the animals.”

“The common house pet does not have the intellect capable of registering surprise at the sight of the impossible.” Cas crushed some dark beans and sprinkled them into the mug.

“And it still doesn’t explain Betty’s blood thing. Maybe the blood was a warning, like a ‘you’re next’ kind of sign.”

Cas handed Dean the mug and stood next to him while Dean absentmindedly sipped at the drink. Dean realized what he was doing and looked at Cas in confusion. “How did you do that?”

“How did I do what?” he asked.

“This,” he lifted the giraffe, “it tastes like chocolate covered cherries.” 

Dark chocolate is actually a very healthy substance taken in low doses. The cacao powder I used will release endorphins in your brain allowing you to relax and better focus on the task at hand. I also used lavender to-“

“Shhh,” Dean cut him off. “You made magic candy water that’s good for me. Let me enjoy this.” He took a long slow drink and sighed. “You got any ideas about the horse?”

“This is a relatively small scale situation, and the creature does not actively seek out victims. We can easily rule out the more well-known horse related creatures, like revered gods. It does not gore, eat, or otherwise physically attack its victims, and quickly disappears after an attack.”

Dean blew on his mug, “So like a horse ghost?”

“It seems unlikely but perhaps there is a creature that behaves in a similar fashion. It may not be entirely malignant.”

“Cas it almost killed a kid.”

“But it spared Betty.”

“And left her a bucket of her own blood.”

“What if the blood was a warning of things to come?”

“That doesn’t add up. Hey, isn’t there a seven headed horse from Norse mythology.”

“Sleipnir was the eight legged horse of Norse mythos. Uchchaihshravas is an Indian god, depicting a flying seven headed horse with a snow white coat. Both are too powerful and localized to be considered in the given situation.”

“Maybe Sammy’ll be able to find something.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “It’s too late to call. Let’s hope he drops by tomorrow.” Dean downed the rest of his hot chocolate tea stuff and rinsed the mug out in the sink. “Well, I’m going to bed. Don’t wait up.”

~~

Cas had stayed downstairs since Dean banned him from the bedroom. Apparently watching over someone while they slept was an invasion of privacy. He was perfecting the extraction of chemicals from a substance he had purchased from a man in the Walmart parking lot when he heard a sound coming from the backyard. The backyard had a tall fence and most of the nocturnal wildlife had been exterminated by the monster, so the noise was extremely suspicious.

He readied his angel blade and opened the sliding glass door to the backyard. He didn’t see anything at first, but he smelled blood. The animal corpses had been confined to the area surrounding the roadways. It was unlikely that the creature had traveled back here. 

There was a muffled groan to his left. He peered around the corner of the house and found a small human, but this one was bleeding. He put away his blade and kneeled down next to her.

“I am Castiel. Do you require assistance?”

The girl shrieked and Cas wondered for a moment if this was a teenager thing and he should have left her alone.

“Who the fuck are you, Perv?” she screeched.

Cas repeated himself, “I am Castiel. Do you require assistance?” Perhaps the girl had suffered a head injury and was not thinking straight.

“I am satisfied with my care, now fuck off Baymax.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

The girl pulled down her sleeves and stood up. She immediately stumbled, but Cas caught her.

“Come inside, I’m a doctor.”

“Sure you are.” She tried to struggle back upright, but blacked out in his arms.

Human children were fragile creatures. This one had lost a lot of blood. Cas carried her inside and laid her on the kitchen table. He dug the first aid kit out of the cabinet and set to work. He rolled up her sleeve to inspect the wound. The cut was jagged and deep, traveling down her arm. It was too long for butterfly bandages. She needed stitches. Dean had been teaching him how to use a surgical needle. He had become rather proficient at it. He had to be careful now that he was supposed to be human. He wasn’t allowed to use his powers to heal people. He could only hurry the process along. He removed her hoodie and made five tight stitches, using his powers to cleanse the wound to ensure that it would not become infected. 

He checked her vitals. She had lost a large amount of blood and would need more nutrients in order to replace it. He moved her to the couch and propped her legs up so that the blood would flow back to her brain. He set to work making a cup of broth and herbs that would help dull the pain and give her some much needed nutrients when she regained consciousness. He infused it with energy to help her blood cells replenish faster.

When she groaned he hurried over to the couch and stopped her from sitting up.

“Who ‘re you?” she slurred, straining to pick out details in the dim light.

“I am Castiel. I am a doctor. I will help you sit up, so tell me if you feel dizzy.”

She nodded slowly and clung to Cas’s arms as he helped her sit. He propped her up with pillows and held the mug to her lips. He had made sure it was cool enough as to not burn her.

“Drink this.”

She slowly drank the mug full of broth. In a few minutes the opiates he had put into the broth kicked in and the girl started smiling and talking to Castiel.

“Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” she asked again.

“My certifications are hanging in the hallway.” He told her, and tried to get her to eat some soup he had found in a can.

“Ok, ok. But you’re gonna murder me, right?” she giggled.

“Doing so after saving your life would be counterproductive, so no.”

“Darn.”

He tilted his head in confusion, “Why does this cause you distress?”

“Would’a been easier,” she insisted, taking another bite of chicken noodle soup.

“How so?” he asked curiously.

“Got nothin’ left to live for now. My best friend just died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Castiel apologized sincerely.

“Mom said the ambulance picked her up, and that she was gonna die on the way to the hospital, just like God intended.” She giggled before whispering, “God hates us, so I just wanna leave before I mess up anything else.”

“What did you do to incur God’s wrath?”

“I don’t want to get married and have kids, and I read trashy romance novels, and I pretend to be sick so I don’t have to go to church sometimes. But you can’t tell anybody!” she demanded.

Cas agreed and she continued to eat while talking about her pet cat that had gone missing last week.

“Cas? I know I said do whatever but making magic tea shouldn’t wake me up…” he trailed off when he saw Cas feeding a very giggly and very pale teenage girl, in their living room, at three in the morning.

Dean buried his face in his hands, “Cas, what the fuck?”

“I found her in the backyard. She was bleeding and acting irregularly, so I took her inside.”

“Hello Nurse!” she yelled and then burst into a fit of giggles.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I fed her mild opiates to subdue her so that she would not panic,” Cas said nonchalantly.

Dean didn’t even look up, “You drugged and kidnapped a teenage girl that you found in our backyard. Oh, this is great. This is, this is just great. Why would you do this?”

“She was bleeding and acting irregularly.”

“Hey, Baymax. Your nurse isn’t wearing a shirt,” the girl piped up from the couch.

Dean made another pained noise and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and asked, “Shit, we forgot to buy beer, didn’t we?”

“I was under the impression that alcoholics were not typically found in the suburbs.”

The girl made a noise of disbelief, “Nahhhhhhh. My Grandpa lives down the street and he’s always drunk. Like really really drunk. His first caretaker tried to cut him off, but she left ‘cause of the sech- the sexul –the sexual harassment. Mandy just lets him do whatever as long as she gets paid.” She flopped back into the pillows and opened her mouth like a hungry baby bird.

“Right,” Dean rubbed his temples as Cas dutifully fed the girl, “Ok. You kidnapped and drugged a teenage girl. We just have to get her back home before anyone finds out. It’s the middle of the night and she snuck out, so nobody will notice she was gone as long as we can get her back.” He walked over to the couch and asked, “Hey, kid.” He snapped his fingers in her face, “Hey.”

She wrinkled her nose in annoyance and mumbled, “Mmm?”

“What’s your name?”

“’M Tabitha.”

“Yeesh, did your mom hate you or something?” He joked.

“Yeah,” she nodded in agreement. “I was her original sin.”

“What the fuck?” Dean asked, because clearly it was too early for him to of heard that right. Deangave them both a look and went to start the coffee maker. 

“Why do you believe that?” Cas asked, intrigued.

“Because she wasn’t married, ‘n she couldn’t get rid of me so she had to marry my deadbeat dad so she could still go to church every Sunday ‘n look God in the eye.” She stared at the ceiling for an eerily long time and burst into tears, “I ruined her life!”

Castiel hesitated, trying to decide whether or not to put down the soup. It had been working so well. He put down the bowl and awkwardly patted her shoulder. “There, there.”

She started flailing, trying to get up while screaming repeatedly, “I’m satisfied with my care! I’m satisfied with my care!” 

Castiel looked desperately to Dean, who was leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee with a huge smirk on his face.

“Dean, help me!”

“Oh no. You drugged the teenage girl. You deal with the consequences.”

Castiel panicked and touched two fingers to her forehead. She instantly fell asleep. 

“You cheating bastard,” Dean accused. 

“Her memory will be hazy at best, she will not remember it.”

“Cheater.”

“Dean Winchester, you are a child.”

“At least I’m pretty child,” he fluttered his eyelashes and poured Cas a cup of coffee in a mug reading “I’m a gay porn star.” He brought it over and handed it to Cas. They both sipped on coffee and stared at Tabitha while she slept. 

“So this doesn’t weird you out at all. You just sit here and watch people sleep?”

“Typically, yes. It is the best way to ensure that they cannot be harmed. I don’t understand why it makes you so uncomfortable.”

“Trust me, Tabitha would find it plenty creepy too.”

“Humans are so strange,” Cas thoughtfully sipped his mug.

“So can you poke around in her brain and find out where she lives, or do we have to wait until she wakes up?”

“I thought using my abilities was cheating.”

“It’s only cheating if you get caught, and I’d rather she not wake up here. In a strange house. With two grown men. One of which kidnapped and drugged her.”

“I merely helped her clean and bandage a wound.”

“Yeah, try telling that to the cops.”

Cas sighed heavily before reaching out to touch her forehead again, “456. It’s just down the street. The screen on her window has been removed so we can bring her back to her bedroom.”

Dean gave him a look. “Fucking creepy.”

They threw their mugs in the sink and Dean got dressed. Castiel fixed Tabitha’s hoodie and wrapped her up in it. 

Dean came back down the stairs, “So you want me to grab the legs, or…”

Cas gave him a bored glance before picking her up and walking out the back door.

“Alright then,” Dean jogged outside after him.

They snuck around behind houses and hopped the fence to get to the street behind theirs. 

“It should be this one,” Dean said.

“It’s the next house,” Cas said and kept walking.

“It’s this house!” Dean whispered angrily. “Where are you going? Get back here!”

He shut up when they found an open window to a painfully pink room with a giant TABITHA poster. Cas crept inside and tucked her in while Dean stood guard. 

On their way back Dean said, “I just realized you could have teleported over there and dropped her off. Why didn’t you do that in the first place?”

“There’s only so much to do at night, and this seemed much more entertaining.”

Dean tripped over a lawn gnome and cursed. 

Cas smiled, “And I was right.”

When they got back Dean went up to the bedroom and hid all of Cas’s neatly folded shirts behind his own stack of t-shirts and jeans before going back to sleep.

Downstairs Cas washed the dishes in the sink and put away the first aid kit before going back to his teas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not every chapter can be a fun chapter, but next chapter Cas wages war. Promise. I'll try to get it done over the weekend. Also Tabitha has a really fucked up life and yes her friend was the kid that Dean and Cas saved.
> 
> That reminds me. I don't know how gruesome I want to make later chapters so if there's anything in particular you want a warning for feel free to ask.


	5. Ice Cold Lemonade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Cas, don’t be an ass.”  
> Heehee, rhymes. Sorry this one is late. It took a lot longer than I expected since I had to rewrite the beginning three times.

Dean awoke to a warm sleepy haze of sunbeams and birdsong flooding in through the window. He sighed and snuggled deeper into his pillow. He could get used to this. Soft, clean sheets. Sleeping in late. No hunting. No worrying. Just sleepy mornings and weird neighbors and Cas.

When Dean finally decided to get up he took a nice long bath in the clean porcelain tub in the master bathroom. It was so big compared to the crappy motel rooms that usually just had showers with water so orange it's a wonder nobody got tetanus. The water stayed warm here even after running it for hours. He sighed and slipped lower into the water.

He used lavender body wash and some sort of aloe shampoo that he found by the tub. Maybe he shouldn't have let Cas pick the shampoo. Cas usually went by whatever he thought smelled best. He had to admit the body wash was nice, even if the bottle was purple and it said FOR WOMEN across the top.

He dried off and drained the tub, walking back to the closet humming a happy tune with a towel around his waist. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and stole a pair of Cas's socks before going downstairs.

He found a bowl of fruit on the counter. Cas must've been reading home design magazines or something. He picked up an apple and bit into it. Hey, it wasn't wax! Definitely a welcome change.

Dean stretched, popping his shoulders and relaxed. It was quiet.

"Cas?" he called. There was no reply. Maybe he was outside. He munched on the apple and pulled open the big teal curtains that covered the window in the kitchen that faced the street.

There were kids playing basketball down the road and teenagers biking past. The old man across the street was sitting on his porch watching the world go by. And there was Cas, digging in the dirt with a pair of sturdy gloves and a giant floppy hat. Dean almost choked on his apple instead of laughing. Cas was wearing the ugliest banana yellow sunhat Dean had ever seen. 

He threw away the core and slipped on his shoes before heading outside to see what Cas was up to.

When he got outside Cas was talking with a very pissed off looking soccer mom.

"Good morning," he interrupted, all smiles.

"It's two in the afternoon Dean," Cas corrected him.

Well somebody's in a bad mood.

The angry looking woman stepped in front of Dean and offered her hand politely, "Good morning Mr. Singer."

"Just call me Dean. I don't believe we've met." He gave her a disarming smile and winked.

She colored slightly behind her prescription sunglasses and introduced herself as Laura, Laura Gilbert.

"Gilbert, is that Irish?" Dean asked.

Laura smiled brightly, "it is! I get my hair from my mother’s side of the family. I’m actually one eighth Irish."

"Excuse me," Cas stood up to interrupt, hat flopping. "I believe you had something to tell me, Ms. Gilbert."

“Yes I do.” Her smile fell away, “Here in Pinegrove we have a certain standard determined by the Lawn and Garden Committee, which I am the Vice President of. We do not allow trees to grow larger than nine feet or be planted within six feet of the house itself. Fruit trees are not allowed at any time, nor is the deliberate planting of weeds and other undesirable vegetation in place of flowers and other ornamental plants. These,” she looked pointedly at Cas and gestured to his newly planted herbs, “are clearly weeds.”

Cas was gritting his teeth. “This is going to be an herb garden, which I means these are herbs. Not weeds.”

Laura sniffed, “Well they’re certainly not flowering herbs, which makes them aesthetically undesirable.”

“Why don’t you take your gardening committee standards and shove them up your-“

“Hey!” Dean interrupted quickly, “Why don’t we go inside and settle this over a nice glass of…” Dean fumbled for a bit. What did people drink when they weren’t drinking beer? Wine? Was it too early for that? “Lemonade?” he asked weakly.

Cas and Laura glared at each other. She turned to Dean and smiled, “I would be delighted.”

Cas huffed and stormed inside ahead of them.

Dean led Laura inside and apologized on Cas’s behalf, “Sorry about him, he was just really looking forward to having a nice big herb garden. Being able to grow his own herbs would really make his job easier. He’s an alternative healer.”

“Oh!” Laura’s eyes widened, “He’s not your gardener?”

“No we both live here.” Dean rummaged through the fridge. He was certain Cas had been working on some sort of lemonade thing. He found the pitcher in the back and gave it an experimental sniff. Smelled like lemons. He set the glass pitcher on the counter and started looking for cups.

“That’s nice. Are you related, then?” she asked.

“Nah, that would have been awkward. I hope you don’t mind but we only have mugs. It’s sort of an inside joke to never buy actual cups.” He poured the lemonade into two mugs and set one in front of Laura.

“No, no. That’s fine.” She assured him and picked up the mug. “So are the two of you…” the words died on her lips as she stared at the mug, proudly declaring “I’M LIKE 104% GAY.” She let out a quiet sigh and sipped the lemonade.

Dean caught the first part of her question and assumed she had been asking about the marriage thing. “We got married last month in Madrid.”

“Must’ve been nice.”

“Yeah. It was.” 

The silence stretched far too long and Dean was desperately trying to think of something to say besides “Nice weather we’re having” when Cas walked downstairs, still wearing his ridiculously yellow hat. Thank you Cas.

“You want some lemonade?” he asked.

Cas froze, looked between the pitcher and Dean, and slowly asked, “How much of that did you drink?”

Dean and Laura slowly put down their mugs and Dean asked, “Half a mug, why?”

Cas relaxed slightly, “In that case just lay down before you lose consciousness. You should be fine after you sleep it off.”

“What would happen if I drank the whole mug?” Laura asked, looking ready to hyperventilate.

“You would lose consciousness for one to two days at best and at worst fall into a coma.” 

Laura nodded, gripping the counter with white knuckles. “I need to call an ambulance,” she decided. “I need to go to the hospital right now.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and started dialing with trembling fingers.

Dean snatched it out of her hand, “Woah, that’s not necessary!”

“He just poisoned me!” she screeched.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. He just needs to make something else to fix it. Right Cas?”

Cas folded his arms. “If I had the right herbs growing in my garden then I would easily be able to fix this.”

“You planned this, didn’t you!?” Laura shrieked. “You and your husband tricked me into coming in here so you could murder me! You psychos! I’ll have you know my husband is a police officer. You two are going to rot in prison. Do you hear me? Rot in-”

Dean caught her around the waist before she fell forward and bumped her head on the counter. He lowered her unconscious body to the floor and gently laid her down.

“What the fuck, man!” Dean exploded. “Why was there poisoned lemonade in the fridge? You put food in there, not, not science experiments! Now we have some lady in a coma in our kitchen that thinks we were trying to kill her!” Dean paused, “You weren’t trying to kill her, were you?”

Cas shrugged, “It was not my intention.”

Dean decided that was a no. “Whatever. Just fix this before she dies. Can you make it so that she wakes up in a few hours with a fuzzy memory or something? We can convince her it was hard lemonade and she fell asleep after a few cups. Maybe she’ll think the whole murder thing was a bad dream.”

“Dean, I think you should lie down now.”

“What? Why would I… oh. Yeah, I should lay down. I should lay down and you should fix this fucking mess.” Dean left the kitchen and sat down on the couch. “This was supposed to be a nice quiet day. You’ve drugged three people in the last twenty-four hours. You are so ground-” Dean flopped over on the couch at an odd angle, snoring heavily.

Cas sighed. One would think growing up a hunter would have made Dean paranoid enough to not drink strange liquids. He always did manage to surprise. He nudged Laura’s limp body with his foot. She was really out cold, probably already in a coma by now. Maybe humans made medicine unpleasant to discourage accidentally ingesting it. He left Laura lying on the floor and attended to Dean first.

Touching two fingers to Dean’s head, he checked his vitals, all normal. His heartrate had slowed considerably, but a jumpstart should overpower the effects of the lemonade and wake him up in about an hour. He cleared Dean’s circulatory system and picked him up, heading towards the stairs before he remembered that Dean wasn’t awake. He teleported to the bedroom and gently laid Dean out on the bed.

Laura was going to be a bit harder. The coma had already set in and her heartrate had slowed considerably. She was only breathing with his help at this point. He’d have to shock her brain back into consciousness after he removed any toxins. He looked around, checking her organs and tissues for possible damage. There was a strange lump in her lungs so he removed that as well, but otherwise everything looked fine. He regulated her breathing and circulation until her body could take over and then decided to wait for Dean before waking up Laura. Dean had much better people skills.

Cas found a roll of masking tape and a sharpie and went through the fridge and the pantry, labeling all of his herbs and concoctions with DO NOT INJEST. Hopefully Dean would reconsider grounding him after seeing the labels. 

After he finished labeling everything he checked on Laura again before heading upstairs to wait for Dean to wake up. He should really take a human’s low tolerance to minute chemical changes into account next time. Medicines barely need to be potent to be effective. 

He stood over Dean, unmoving, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Humans were so fragile. Maybe he really did need to be more careful.

Dean awoke with a start, smashing his head into Cas’s face and swearing profusely. “Damnit Cas!” Dean yelled, “We talked about this, it’s fucking creepy.”

He held his throbbing forehead and groaned as his memories flitted back into place. “Laura, is she up yet?” he asked.

Cas shook his head. “I thought it would be best that I waited for you. You’re much better at… handling these types of situations.”

Dean got up and staggered to the stairs, “Let’s do this MIB style.”

Downstairs Dean had Cas move Laura to the couch because “You can’t leave people on the floor, Cas. It’s rude.” 

Dean watched curiously as Cas zapped her brain awake or something. He didn’t really understand when he asked, but it sounded painful. When Laura began to move Dean shoved Cas towards the kitchen and hurriedly told him to magic up some sort of fresh baked food. 

Laura sat up with a start and looked around in confusion. 

Dean plastered on the cheesiest smile he could manage, “Hey, sleepyhead. Sorry about this. I didn’t know it was hard lemonade either if that makes it any better.”

Laura looked at him in confusion. 

“You alright? You’ve been out for a while. You must have a low alcohol tolerance,” Dean added

“Low tolerance,” she repeated.

“Yeah, lemme get you a glass of water.”

“Water,” she repeated again, blinking slowly as though she were grasping at a fading dream.

Dean walked casually to the kitchen. “What did you get?” he whispered to Cas.

“It appears to be some sort of fruit pastry,” Cas whispered back.

Dean grabbed one off the still warm tray and took a bite. “It’s a blueberry and banana scone. Where did you get scones?”

“Austraila.”

Dean shook his head, “Whatever works.”

He pulled a new mug and a plate out of the cupboard. He used the ice and water dispensers on the fridge, partly because it was cool but mostly because he was sure it was cleaner than the tap water. He plopped a scone on the plate and brought them over to Laura. “Have a scone. Cas just pulled them out of the oven.”

“Thank you,” Laura said, still slightly dazed. She nibbled at the scone and drank the mug before she started talking normally again.

“I don’t know what came over me. I’m so embarrassed that I fell asleep on you like that. I hardly ever drink, and I guess I was just so tired from running around all day,” Laura chattered.

“It’s no problem at all. It’s my fault for forgetting what was in the lemonade,” Dean said.

“It’s getting quite late, Laura. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Cas asked impatiently.

“Cas, don’t be an ass.”

“She’s the one that came over here looking for a fight,” Cas defended.

“That doesn’t mean you have to be rude.”

“All I wanted to do was work on my garden but instead I spent today-”

“Cleaning up after your own mess,” interrupted Dean.

“It’s not my mess. You were the one that decided to drink strange liquids.”

“It shouldn’t even be a ‘strange liquid’ if it’s in my own damn fridge where every sane person puts things that they’re supposed to eat.”

“You’re getting careless,” Cas hissed.

“Maybe I’m just tired after the stunt you pulled last night. I barely slept a wink.” Dean clamped his mouth shut and colored. That came out a lot gayer than he had meant.

Laura had turned the same shade of tomato red and stood up, excusing herself and hastily stammering goodbyes. She promised to come by tomorrow with an information pamphlet on the Lawn and Garden Committee later for Cas.

Laura practically ran out the door and straight into a tall, firm chest. “Oh my,” she murmured looking up into wide soulful eyes. “Oh my,” she repeated.

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” the man asked, concerned. 

Laura shook herself out of her daze and jumped away from the handsome man in a well-fitting suit. “I, yes. I was just, sorry.”

He smiled, “No, it was my fault. Do you live here?”

She shook her head, “No, I was just, just leaving.”

“Oh, alright then. Sorry to bother you, have a nice day.”

He smiled and she smiled back. He really did have dreamy eyes. He was looking at her a little strangely now. Oh, right. He just said goodbye. “Right, sorry. Goodbye.” She practically ran away again. Who was that mysterious stranger? He was tall, fit, and handsome. The perfect romance novel hero. He was probably chivalrous and hung like a horse too. God what she wouldn’t give to have a hunk of a man like him sweep her off her feet. 

She already had the perfect life for a hot steamy affair. It’s not like her husband would mind if she up and disappeared one day. He was too busy cheating on her with teenage skanks anyways. She knew she should have never settled. Her mother was right. She could have done so much better. 

She stopped to sniff the tulips in her perfectly manicured garden before letting herself inside the house. The garden was her pride and joy. It was the only thing she could count on not to betray her. Flowers were beautiful. Flowers didn’t talk back or expect you to wait on them constantly. As long as you put in the effort, flowers would put in twice as much to grow. Nobody in this damn neighborhood cared as much as she did about gardening, especially not that impudent Cas Singer.

He just made her blood boil. He came into her neighborhood and tried to fuck with her committee standards and didn’t give a crap who she was or what she said. This neighborhood has standards and she intended to keep them, even if it meant stooping down to his level. Whatever happens, she cannot let him plant weeds. They might spread and ruin her own garden, plus they look horrible compared to all the other neat rows of marigolds and daisies that the other houses have. Why couldn’t he just pay for a gardening service like all the other idiots? 

Inside she slammed her purse down on the counter and sighed heavily. 

“Laura? You forgot to make lunch so I ordered pizza,” came from the living room over the shout of the TV.

High pitched giggling floated into the kitchen where Laura stood. That fucking bastard.

“Joe, who’s in there with you?” she asked, refusing to walk into the living room.

“Just Candy.”

She stalked over to the living room and leaned against the doorframe. The woman was older than she looked. Makeup could do wonders. She was wearing a low cut dress that barely managed to stay on and fishnet tights.

“Now you have to pay to cheat on me? I didn’t mind it so much when you at least tried to sneak around with somebody else, but this is just pathetic,” she sneered. “You already buy enough dumb shit. You don’t need to waste our money on whores too.”

“Shut up, Laura. It’s not like you’ve ever been brave enough to try cheating on me.”

Candy looked worried now.

“I could have my pick of men. The only reason I don’t is so that you don’t look pathetic. As soon as the right man comes along I swear I’ll drop you faster than a hot iron. What’ll you do then, huh? What’ll you do when you’re on your own?”

“I’ll finally be happy! That’s what I’ll do! I won’t have you nagging me all the time and I can bring any girl I want home whenever I want!” he roared.

Candy shrunk down in her seat on the couch and tried to look as small as possible. 

“You lard ass! You can’t live without me and you know it! You’re too pathetic to admit it but you need me. You’re afraid to live alone and you know no one else will have you!”

“I could say the same for you! You want this fairytale romance but you’re thirty five and fairytales aren’t real, Laura! Get rid of your grand delusions and try living in this reality for once! Nobody is going to love you and nobody is going to save you! We’re both stuck with each other until we die! At least I’m trying to get some fun out of it!”

Laura pursed her lips and stormed away.

Joe sighed heavily. Where did he go wrong? “Come on Candy, I’ll drive you home. How much do I owe you?”

“Two fifty.”

“It was only two hundred last time.”

“Last time your wife didn’t come home, and I need an incentive to come back.”

Joe sighed and forked over the money.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm becoming weirdly invested in the lives of background characters. I meant to stop following Laura after she left the house but then she was super into Sam and suddenly she had a whole life story and everything. This chapter wasn't as funny as I had hoped, but Cas needs to learn that drugging people is bad. Also I hope I made it obvious enough who the mystery man at the door was. Thanks to everybody that commented and left kudos, you guys are awesome! if there's anything you think should be worked into the story I'm always up for suggestions! My tumblr is [Snail-Writes-Shit](http://snail-writes-shit.tumblr.com/) if you want to chat or suggest a prompt or something. Thanks again for reading, and as always comments are much appreciated.


	6. Nosey Neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sam swallowed what was in his mouth with some difficulty."
> 
> Taking things out of context is way more fun than it should be. This one's a bit longer but I hope you like it.

Dean and Cas watched Lauren run out the door and Dean let out a sigh of relief.

“Let’s never invite anyone over ever again,” Dean decided.

“Agreed.”

Just then the doorbell rang that stupid cheery tune that Dean hadn’t figured out how to change yet. Dean groaned, “Do you think they’ll go away if we pretend we’re not here?”

There was a short rap on the door followed by, “FBI. Anybody home?”

Dean smiled and rushed to open the door.

Sam kept a straight face when he saw his brother. “Hello, my name is Eliot Spencer,” he flashed his badge, “and I’m with the FBI. Could I ask you a few questions about some recent incidents in the neighborhood?”

“You sure can Mr. Spencer, come on in.” Dean pulled him inside.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas greeted from the kitchen where he was whisking something in a large bowl.

“Honey what are you talking about?” Dean walked over to Cas and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. “This nice man is from the FBI.”

Sam’s face was cracking and he bit his lip to stop from laughing. “Eliot Spencer. A pleasure to meet you Mr…?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Sam and Dean and slowed his whisking.

Dean decided to take over, clinging onto Cas in a way that even made the angel uncomfortable, despite his lack of personal space. “We’re the Singers. Why don’t you sit down in the living room and Cas can get you something to drink.” He batted his eyes at Cas, “Right darling?”

Cas was looking genuinely disturbed at this point and he looked helplessly between Sam and Dean, unsure how to answer. “Dean?” he asked.

“Yes baby cakes?” Dean lisped.

Sam couldn’t hold it in anymore and doubled over with laughter, eyes glistening with tears. Dean followed, leaning on Cas for support while he laughed so hard his sides hurt.

Cas figured this was another human thing and rolled his eyes. 

Dean got his breathing under control and patted Cas on the back, “It’s a joke Cas. Just go with it.”

Cas nodded before scampering off to keep an eye on whatever he had put on the stove.

Dean and Sam sat down on the white cream couch in the living room. Sam was still getting over the last of his giggles as he flopped down. “Man, people here are crazy,” Sam said.

“You’re telling me. I have to live with them.”

“I’ve already had three old ladies ask if I was single so they could set me up with their granddaughters. One of them slipped a phone number in a bag of snickerdoodles she gave me.”

“Do you have any left? Cas can’t cook for shit.”

“I made scones!” came from the kitchen.

“You stole those from Australia!” Dean yelled back.

Sam chuckled, “Do I want to know?”

Dean shook his head, “Probably not. Any luck with the case?”

“Yeah, you heard about the kid that had a heart attack after you got here?”

“We were the ones that called the ambulance.”

“No kidding? Did you see what happened?”

“No. There was a scream and what sounded like a horse so we ran outside and found him lying on the sidewalk. He would have died without Cas there.”

“A horse?”

“Yeah, you know that clip clop sound they make when they run?”

Sam leaned back, face screwed up in thought. 

Cas carried three mugs into the living room and set them down on the coffee table. “Don’t spill on the couch.” 

He forwent the recliner across the coffee table and sat on the arm of the couch next to Dean, sipping a mug of something vibrantly blue and steaming. That couldn’t be right.

Dean picked up his giraffe mug and gave the mix an experimental sniff. It smelled like blue raspberry. Like someone took a lollypop and melted it down into a chunky smoothie. A warm, chunky smoothie. 

“Cas, I’m only asking because last time I ended up unconscious, but what the hell is this?”

Sam made a surprised noise and licked away his highlighter blue moustache. “This is amazing,” his voice tinged with awe. “Wait,” he looked at Dean, “unconscious?”

“It’s a mixture of blueberries, seal oil, reindeer fat-“

Cas was cut off by Dean gagging. Sam swallowed what was in his mouth with some difficulty. “Dude. What the fuck?” Dean asked.

“It’s based on a traditional Native Alaskan dish called akutaq where reindeer fat, seal oil, ground fish, berries and snow or water are whipped by hand…” He trailed of as both Winchesters put their mugs down and Dean turned slightly green. “It has blueberries?” he offered.

Sam shook his head. “Were these mugs on sale?” he asked, trying to change the subject. His mug had a very disturbing image of Vladimir Putin in drag waving a rainbow flag.

“Yes, actually,” Dean said.

“Also, why is Cas wearing your shirt?” Sam asked.

Dean glanced at Cas, who was indeed wearing one of his AC/DC t-shirts.

“Mine all disappeared,” said Cas.

Cas and Sam both looked at Dean expectantly. Dean threw his hands up, “It was payback for the teenage girl thing!”

“Teenage girl thing?” asked Sam.

“Okay, so last night I was sleeping when I heard Cas making a racket so I go downstairs and he’s got a teenage girl hopped up on who knows what singing Old MacDonald while he feeds her soup. I spent half the night trying to sneak an unconscious kid back into her house when he could have just zapped her there by himself.”

“I told you, I was bored.”

“And I told you, you’re an asshole,” Dean snipped.

“Wait, is she okay?” Sam asked, very much concerned.

Dean shrugged, “I think she’s fine. We broke into her house to drop her off after Cas panicked and knocked her out. The cops haven’t come by so she probably thought it was a dream and forgot about it.”

“And who else did he drug?”

“Laura and me.”

“Who’s Laura?”

“You probably ran into her when she left.”

“The redhead that groped me?”

Dean laughed and ruffled Sam’s hair. “Did the mean lady touch you in a bad place?”

Sam batted away his hand, “Hey, knock it off or I’m not sharing the snickerdoodles.”

“You still have some left?” Dean asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I’d get fat if I ate all of them.”

“Yeah, but it would be worth it.”

Sam dug out a bag of sugar filled goodness and handed it over to Dean who tore the bag open and dug in. “Mmmm. Homemade cookies are the best,” he mumbled through a mouthful. 

“Right, so I talked to Betty Steadman, the one that woke up face down in a puddle of her own blood. She’s sweet but she didn’t tell me anything useful, just what was already in the papers.”

“We visited her yesterday, and she told us about the incident. She also spoke of the sound of a galloping horse before she lost consciousness. She seemed otherwise unharmed from the incident. I could detect no malign spirits or omens hanging over her head,” Cas added.

“So definitely something to do with horses,” Sam confirmed.

“We already ruled out any water based monsters since the nearest body of water is who knows how far out,” said Dean.

“The neighborhood wasn’t a ranch or anything. And the attacks only go back about a month. Whatever this is and however it got here has to be recent,” Sam mussed. 

“It might be something more physical than a ghost or a spirit though, so it may have been looking for a new home and shacked up here,” said Dean.

“That’s always a possibility,” agreed Sam as he stood. “I’ll look into equine lore around the area tomorrow.”

“Leaving so soon?” asked Dean.

“Yeah, I can’t spend too much time here or it’ll look suspicious. Have you met Mr. Patterson?”

“Who’s that?” Dean asked.

“He’s your neighbor, the one across the street. He’s really creepy so I suggest closing the curtains and locking your doors at night.”

“Great, more freaks,” Dean grumbled and shoved another cookie in his mouth.

“Dean, you’re getting crumbs on the couch,” Cas piped up.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll clean it up later,” he rolled his eyes. 

He walked Sam to the door while Cas rinsed the bright blue whatever it was out of the mugs.

“Call me if you find anything, alright?”

“Will do,” said Sam.

“Take care of yourself Mr. Spencer.”

Sam smiled and opened the door. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Singer. I hope you have a good evening.”

Cas already had his gloves and his ridiculously floppy hat back on and was heading out the door behind Sam.

“Gonna work on the garden some more?”

Cas smiled grimly, “Laura’s not going to win this one.”

“Did we get a lawnmower?”

“Yes I put it in the garage.”

“Cool, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Dean whistled and opened the garage door. He picked his way through the clutter. Cas threw everything he didn’t know where to put in here. He found the lawnmower under a hose and the old floral patterned curtains that were hanging up when they got there. He should wash the impala sometime while he had the chance. He hit the button for the garage door and rolled the mower outside into the sunshine.

He chuckled at Cas, leaning over his garden, and started up the lawnmower after several unsuccessful attempts. The smell of fresh cut grass and sun kissed earth flooded his nose as he pushed the mower back and forth across his own little square lawn. 

He smiled and waved at the kids that were sitting on the curb and staring at him. They all looked away and went back to playing on some sort of handheld game. There must not be a lot of gay couples in the neighborhood.

He glanced at the old man sitting on his porch across the street several times. He was staring at Dean unashamedly. He wasn’t even bothering to hide it. Sam was right about that one. He was fucking creepy. 

Dean’s thoughts were shattered when he heard a smash and whipped his head around. One of the teenagers riding her bike on the sidewalk had just driven right into his mailbox. He let go of the mower and raced over to make sure she was okay.

She was sitting upright next to her upturned bike and staring at the mailbox with surprise. Poor kid must’ve been looking the other way. He kneeled down next to her and immediately regretted checking on her. It was Tabitha, and this was not going to end well. “Hey, kid. You alright?” he asked anyways.

She blinked at him slowly before she said, “I must’ve hit my head really hard.”

He frowned and reached for her head to check for any bleeding, since she wasn’t wearing a helmet. She flinched when he touched her, like she was surprised about something. So he tried to reassure her, “Hey, I just wanna look for any bumps, alright?”

She nodded somewhat in a daze. He couldn’t find any blood on the back of her head, but she had a nasty looking cut over her eyebrow. It wasn’t anything serious, but it was bleeding.

“How about we get you cleaned up and slap a couple Band-Aids on. Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” she struggled up with his help and found herself looking up at Cas, who had come over to see what was going on. “Baymax?” she asked with disbelief.

“I told you, that is not my name,” Cas said.

“Holy fudge muffins, you’re real,” she said.

“How hard did she hit her head?” he asked Dean.

“Not hard enough to forget apparently,” he grumbled while shoving her inside.

When they closed the door she started struggling against Dean, who was still gripping her shoulders. “Let go of me!”

“Woah! Calm down! We’re just trying to help!” Dean tried to say.

“Get away!” Tabitha managed to kick Dean in the balls and scramble away.

“SONOFABITCH!” Dean fell to the ground, clutching his crotch.

“We should get you a cup if this keeps happening,” Cas said.

Tabitha tried to make a mad dash for the backdoor, but Cas was faster. He grabbed her and sat her down on the counter in the kitchen.

She must’ve been in shock or something, because she didn’t move after he put her down.

He grabbed a washcloth and got it wet. He turned to Tabitha and told her to keep still, carefully wiping the blood off her face and scrubbing the dirt out of her palms. He moved to pull up her sleeve, but she jerked away.

“I just want to see if your fall opened any of your stitches.”

“How did you…?”

“I’m the one who put them in. I told you, I’m a doctor.”

“Who are you?” she asked again.

“My name is Castiel Singer. I found you in my backyard last night. You were acting erratically and fainted from blood loss.”

“I can explain,” she blurted.

Cas rolled up her sleeve and examined the stitches. “You do not have to give me an explanation if you do not want to.”

Dean let out a pitiful whimper in the silence that followed.

“I… last night I was talking to my friend, but she just stopped and then I heard the ambulance and my mom came in and told me she was going to die on the way to the hospital.” Tears pricked the edges of her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve.

“Have you heard from your friend since?” he asked.

“No,” she took a shaky breath.

Cas got out the first aid kit again. “Does your friend have pink hair?” he asked, thinking back on the teenager he had saved.

“Yeah, but how did you know that?”

He stuck a large band aid on her forehead and rummaged around for the tweezers. “Before I went home that night my husband saved a boy with pink hair who was having a heart attack.”

“She’s trans.”

“My apologies. The ambulance took her to the hospital and she is currently recovering. I can only imagine her phone was broken during the incident, or she would have contacted you by now. Can I see you hand?”

She let out a watery laugh and held up her hand. Cas plucked out several pieces of gravel and sprayed antiseptic on her palm. “You sure she’s okay?”

“Absolutely.”

She lifted her head upwards and Cas heard her praying a thank you to god in her head.

He paused to listen and completely missed the knocking at the door.

“No, it’s alright. I got it. Don’t trouble yourself. It’s not like I’m injured or anything,” Dean sarcastically yelled from the entryway as he got up to open the door.

Cas focused his attention back on Tabitha. “Does it hurt anywhere else?” he asked her.

She shook her head no.

“Do you feel dizzy or sleepy?” He already knew she was fine but he was trying his best to keep up appearances this time.

She shook her head again. “Thanks, uh, for yesterday. I was kind of… out of it, and I got scraped jumping the fence.”

“Judgement and reaction time tends to slow down immensely when intoxicated.”

Her eyes widened, “Please don’t tell my mom,” she begged.

“Doctor patient confidentiality,” he said simply. “Your secret is safe with me, just promise you won’t do something like that again?”

She nodded, “Okay.”

“Cas! The guy across the street thinks we kidnapped his granddaughter!”

“How do you know that?”

“The FBI guy is back.” Dean walked into the kitchen with Sam in tow.

“Hello, Mr. Spencer,” Cas smiled.

Tabitha started to freak out again. She hopped off the counter and started trying to explain. “They didn’t do anything, I just ran into their mailbox and he was getting me a Band-Aid!”

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Can I escort you over to your grandpa’s house, then?”

“I’d rather just go home,” she mumbled.

“Sure thing. Where do you live?”

As he was leading her outside Cas pulled him back. 

“What’s up Cas,” Sam whispered.

“The child who was hospitalized is her friend but hasn’t contacted her at all. Could you mention Tabitha when you visit for a statement?”

Sam smiled warmly and looked at Tabitha, “Yeah, sure.”

They waved goodbye as Sam and Tabitha walked over to her grandfather’s house to explain the situation before Sam collected her bike and walked her home.

Dean checked out the damage to the mailbox. Kid must’ve had a hard head since the grey metal was dented. He winced inwardly. Hopefully Laura didn’t have a mailbox policy as well.

Just then he noticed the hedges by the mailbox were blackened. That was odd. He crouched down to inspect the leaves. They were singed, like someone had run along the bushes with a torch in hand. He hoped the resident teenagers didn’t pull any more shit like this. Bushes he could trim, but he wasn’t looking forward to cleaning egg and toilet paper off the roof.

He went back to mowing and Cas was already back to playing in the dirt. He had filled a good portion of the flowerbed with tiny delicate plants. 

When he finished the lawn he headed inside and grabbed two mugs of ice water. He brought them outside and offered one to Cas.

“I do not need hydration to survive, Dean.”

“Just shut up and drink it. You owe me for the lemonade thing.”

“That was your own fault.”

“It was your lack of common sense.”

“You should have known better, you’re a hunter.”

“You shouldn’t have been trying to make poison anyways.”

“It’s not poison in small doses.”

“You don’t even need a drug to knock people out. You just do the hand thing.”

“I’m not supposed to use my powers.”

Dean made a noise of frustration, “Just drink the damn water.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Cas, it is a beautiful fucking day outside and we haven’t been arrested or killed yet. Take the damn mug and let me enjoy the moment.”

Cas begrudgingly took the mug and sipped it.

“Was that so hard?” Dean muttered.

Cas shot him a look but thankfully somebody else spoke before he could retort.

“Hello, is one of you Mr. Singer?” A woman in a yellow sundress called out to them as she walked up the street. A huge, gruff looking man was following behind her carrying a large glass dish.

“Which one are you looking for?” Dean asked.

“Oh,” she looked between them. “I was told that a Mr. Singer saved my daughter last night.”

“Dean performed CPR when we found her last night. He’s a hero.” Cas smiled at Dean.

That bastard, he was pawning off social interaction. He smiled anyways, “I’m guessing you’re the parents?” he asked.

“Yes,” she grabbed his hand and shook it almost violently, “I can’t thank you enough for saving my baby’s life.” She started tearing up and let go of Dean’s hand to wipe at her eyes. “I, I made you some lasagna as a thank you,” she sniffed. “Carl, Carl, give him the lasagna.”

Carl was a mountain of a man; he towered over his petite wife and made Dean feel like a child in comparison. He had to look up at Carl, squinting at the sun in his eyes. “Gee, thanks.” He took the lasagna from Carl and stepped back awkwardly. He cleared his throat. “Right, so I’m Dean, and this is my husband Cas. Say hi Cas.”

Cas reluctantly stepped forward to shake their hands and smile.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I skipped all that. I’m just, just so thankful. I’m Kate Miller and, of course, this is my husband Carl.”

The huge man smiled at them behind his beard.

“We’re bringing Alec home on Monday and we were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner. We’d love to have you over. I just can’t thank you enough for what you did for my daughter.”

Dean was a little overwhelmed by Kate, and soon found himself agreeing.

“Alright then, six o’clock sharp. We live just four houses down that way; it’s not far at all.”

Dean nodded and stacked his mug on top of the foil covered dish to shake Kate’s hand. He tried to shake Carl’s hand too but found himself wrapped up in a crushing hug.”

“Watch the ribs,” he gasped out, trying to balance the lasagna and his mug in one hand. “I need those.”

Kate laughed at his predicament and they both seemed to vanish as quickly as they had appeared.

“Well, they were…”

“Nice?” Cas supplied.

Dean shrugged, “Hey, free food.”

“At least you know what you’re eating for the next few days.”

“Hey, unlike you I can cook.”

Cas smiled and gathered up his gardening tools, “It’s almost dinner time, why don’t we head inside before anybody else tries to talk to us.”

“Good idea.”

He brought the lasagna inside before heading back out to put the mower away and close the garage door.

~~

Dean was hunched over the steaming dish of lasagna, digging in with a spoon. He watched Cas clean the pots he had used for the blue gunk.

“Do you like doing that?” Dean asked.

Cas glanced up from the hair and fat he was trying to clean from the strainer. “Washing dishes?”

“No, doing the whole herbal tea experimenting thing.

“It’s interesting.”

“Yeah, but do you like it. Because next time you could ask Sam for a different fake job; like a professor or a librarian or something. Hey, you could be a stripper. Call yourself Angel and wear six inch heels.”

Cas looked thoughtful. “I would like to be an architect.”

Dean paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Well that’s random.”

“Angels serve a purpose. We do as we are told.” He dried off the last of the pots and put them away. “We are the gears in a machine, moving and turning the cogs of heaven’s works. I’ve always liked the idea of creating my own design, my own plan,” he leaned on the counter to face Dean. “To have something that is entirely mine from the beginning to the end.”

Dean swallowed thickly, staring at Cas.

“So, no heels?” Dean chuckled weakly.

“I’ve never worn heels,” Cas considered, still watching Dean.

Dean cleared his throat and got up, breaking eye contact, “Well that makes two of us buddy. I’m gonna call Sam and see if he talked to anybody else today.” He put the aluminum foil back on the lasagna and stuck it in the fridge, rinsing the spoon off in the sink. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this one's a bit longer than the others but people just kept showing up. And I still didn't fit in everything I wanted to. Ah, well. Laura is visiting again tomorrow and Tabitha's mother herself is going to show up. Also maybe girl scouts. Or I could save that for later.
> 
> Also for my own sake let's say this one takes place on a Thursday, because I need Easter to be this weekend in the story. I might binge write the next chapter just to make the Easter fic on Easter. Wish me luck!


	7. As Seen on TV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He hissed out, “Laura,” and left Dean struggling on the floor to go open the door."
> 
> You have three guesses as to what this is actually about.

Cas shook Dean awake. “Dean, wake up. I want my shirts.”

Dean groaned and turned over, reaching blindly for the alarm clock on the bed stand. He peered at it blearily. “Cas, it is six am.”

“I want my shirts,” Cas repeated.

Dean flopped back onto his pillows. “Behind my clothes,” he mumbled through the pillow.

Cas rummaged around in the closet and came out shirtless. “Is this sweater appropriate for spring?”

He was holding up a banana yellow turtleneck with green argyle across the front.

Dean squinted at the shirt in distaste. “Next time you go shopping take Sam with you, and no you can’t wear sweaters when it’s eighty outside.”

Cas sighed and came back out with a pastel yellow polo shirt.

“What’s with all the yellow?” Dean asked.

“I like the color.”

Dean sighed and rolled out of bed. “Might as well get up.”

He grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom.

When he came downstairs Cas was brewing coffee. There was a glass jar on the counter, with little flashing lights. Dean poured himself a mug of coffee and inspected the jar. It was full of fireflies.

“Were you catching fireflies all last night?” he asked, sipping his coffee. 

Cas nodded and watched him intently.

Dean stopped drinking his coffee and placed it on the counter, next to the jar. He flicked off the light switch and watched his coffee glow in the dark. He just sighed and dumped his coffee, instead going to the fridge to dig out last night’s lasagna.

Cas looked put out, “Did the taste give it away?”

Dean grunted a negative. “You were looking at me funny is all.”

Cas filed that away for later and dumped out the rest of the coffee.

“What are we gonna do today, Cas?”

“Laura said she’s coming back, so I suggest we leave.”

Dean smiled, “You can’t hide from her forever. She’ll hunt you down.”

Dean stared at the living room. It was so empty. “Hey, we should go buy a TV.”

Cas frowned, “Why?”

“You said you were bored, right? And neither of us have jobs. We can get one of those huge flat screens. It’ll be way better than those crappy old motel ones. We can go now, before Laura shows up.”

Cas nodded. “We should go.”

They walked outside and Dean locked the door behind them. They got into the impala and were about to pull out when Dean saw somebody waving at them from the end of the driveway. Fuck. If this was another soccer mom trying to invite him to another social event he was going to explode.

He instead put on a smile and got out of the car. Cas wasn’t getting out for this one, fine then. He would drag Cas to whatever stupid event this lady wanted him at. She was carrying a stack of fliers so she probably wouldn’t stay too long at least.

“Good morning!” she said far too cheerily. “My name is Kami Olson and I was just running around handing out fliers for my church’s Easter Sunday egg hunt.” She gave him one of the fliers. “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will be hosting a barbeque and egg hunt after church this Sunday. You’re more than welcome to come for Sacrament before then. You’ll find we’re very friendly to visitors, even if you aren’t members.”

“Thanks, I’ll definitely think about it. Good luck.” He turned and walked back to the car.

He got in the driver’s seat and threw the flyer at Cas. “Guess where we’re going tomorrow?”

“Easter egg hunting?” Cas peered curiously at the flyer.

“Nah, that’s a bonus. We’re going to church!”

Cas groaned, “Why Mormons.”

“Because that’s who handed me a flyer.”

“Just drive before any more of them come.”

“Can do.”

They ended up going to Walmart because Cas thought it was an interesting place for human watching. He wasn’t wrong. Sometimes Dean and Sam would get a six pack and watch fights break out between the shoppers. If they were lucky the employees would start a fight too.

They wandered over to the electronics department and the girl there helped them pick out a TV, a really nice flat screen, and all the accessories to hang it on the living room wall. When she tried to scan the TV for them, her machine made a sad beeping noise and she called for a manager.

“I’m so sorry about this. It happens a lot with the TV’s and I can’t punch it in by hand without a manager’s code because the electronics department is way more strict.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dean assured her.”

Another guy in the same blue vest stumbled into the department, yelling at the girl.

“What do you need this time?” he asked exasperated.

“This TV isn’t scanning and I can’t override the scanner without a manager’s pin,” she explained.

“Why can’t you just do it yourself? I already left you my fucking number.”

“Mark, I already told you it’s illegal to use somebody else’s pin, even if you did give me permission. If I had somebody else on the clock with me here, then I wouldn’t need to call you all the time.”

Mark slapped his hands down on the table, startling all of them. “You’re a bitch,” he slurred.

“Mark, are you drunk?” she asked.

“No, you’re fucking stupid,” tried to retort.

“Mark, that’s it. I’m reporting you. You can’t keep doing this, or you’re going to get fired,” she told him.

She reached for the phone and he launched himself over the counter at her, but before he could so much as touch her Dean stepped into the checkout stand and threw himself in front of the girl. At the same time Cas grabbed him by his vest and yanked him back so that he landed on his face on the counter. He was out cold, so Cas left him slumped there.

“Oh my God, is he okay?” the girl asked.

Dean got out and lifted the man, setting him down on the floor against the counter so that he was sitting upright. That way he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. 

“Hey, Cas. Does this look broken?”

Cas wiggled the man’s nose and Dean heard it snap back into place. “No, it’s just bleeding.”

“I’m so sorry about all this. He isn’t usually like this. I’ll call another manager right away so that I can get your TV scanned.”

“Call someone to take care of him first, and file a report against him. He was aiming for you when he jumped.”

She picked up the phone again. “I will. Thanks.”

She made several calls and eventually a very burly manager showed up and Dean and Cas finally paid for their TV. Mike woke up about the time two cops arrived. They took him away screaming and hollering while the other manager asked the girl what happened.

Cas nudged Dean, “Give me your wallet.”

“Why?”

“Just give me your wallet.”

Dean huffed and handed it over.

Cas pulled out several twenties and gave them to their cashier. Her eyes widened when saw the money.

“This is to thank you for all the trouble you went through to help us,” Cas said.

“I couldn’t.” She tried to give him back the money, but he wouldn’t take it.

“You deserve it.”

He walked with Dean out to the parking lot and loaded the TV into the backseat.

“Why did you give her so much money?” he asked Cas.

“Why would she be working here if it presents such a danger?” Cas asked.

“Money,” Dean realized.

“Hopefully it helps.”

Dean smiled at him.

“What?” Cas asked.

“Nothing.”

“What did I do?”

Dean just shook his head, the same grin still on his face. It stayed on his face the whole drive home. Of course it fell away pretty fast when they opened the first box for the TV wall mount.

“Cas, where does this piece go?”

Cas looked at it carefully, “It might be part of the extendable arm.”

“Okay, and where does that go?”

“Let me check the Chinese instructions. They seem to be a bit clearer on some of the directions.”

Dean grunted in frustration, “Never mind, I’ll figure it out by myself.”

“Dean you’re putting that in backwards.”

“I got it.”

“You obviously don’t. Just let me figure this part of the instructions out.”

“I don’t need to learn Chinese just to put this damn thing together.”

“Just let me-“

The doorbell rang and Cas froze. He hissed out, “Laura,” and left Dean struggling on the floor to go open the door.

“Hello, Laura,” he greeted her with disdain.

“Cas,” she replied curtly. “I brought you a pamphlet with the Lawn and Garden Committee’s standards for you to look over.”

She handed him the pamphlet and he took it, still glaring.

“I also noticed your mailbox is a little bent out of shape. You should get that fixed.”

“I’ll make sure to do that. Have you seen my herb garden? It’s coming along quite nicely.”

“I have seen it, but you still don’t have any flowers,” she pointed out again.

“Many medicinal herbs are flowering plants, but I thought I would try something different and leave those out entirely.”

Laura’s smile was so tight; it looked like she had just bit into a lemon. “It states clearly in the pamphlet that gardens must consist of flowering plants.”

“Who decides on these rules?” Cas asked.

“The committee.”

“And how would I request an audience with the committee?”

“If you insist on heckling us over every little detail then you can attend the next committee meeting this Saturday. Denise Woodcock is hosting it at her house at two. Do you know where she lives?”

Cas smiled darkly, “I already know where she lives, thank you. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Laura.” Cas slammed the door in her face.

Laura almost let out a scream. That asshole! Why did Dean marry that guy in the first place? He was absolutely insufferable. She had to call Denise and make sure nobody would put up with Cas’s shit on Saturday. She’d finally put him in his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this one is a lot shorter, but there just wasn't a lot I had planned for this one. Everything else happens later. Plus it seemed like a really good place to end it. I really can't wait for the Easter chapter though.


	8. All in Favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know but I’m not stopping until I puke.”
> 
> The only way to eat cookies.

Cas changed his clothes and packed his bag. He was up all night planning this, and he was going to metaphorically pummel Laura into the ground. Nothing would stand in his way today.

He stormed his way to Denise’s house and firmly knocked on the door. 

Denise answered the door with an, “Oh, it’s you,” but let him in anyways.

There were only a few members milling about the kitchen, munching on finger sandwiches and vegetarian taquitos. Cas remembered a few faces from the barbeque. 

Mark came over to talk to him, “Hey, Cas Singer, right?”

“Yes. Hello, Mark.”

“Are you planning on joining the committee? We could always use another hand.”

Denise interrupted, “Nonsense! I’m sure he has plenty to do already.”

“Actually, I run an online alternative medication pharmacy, so I could easily rearrange my schedule,” Cas smiled smugly at Denise.

“I’m not sure we could let you in based on our standards,” she huffed.

“What standards would that be?” he asked.

“You would know if you read the pamphlet Laura was kind enough to deliver to you yesterday.”

“I did read it. Cover to cover. Several times.”

“Then you understand why coming here won’t do you any good?”

“Precisely the opposite. In two hours’ time I’m going to walk out of that door with this entire committee singing my praise.”

Denise let out a laugh of disbelief. “I’d like to see you try.” She stalked away to get the door and let in Laura and another committee member.

Mark magically reappeared with a small paper plate stacked high with taquitos when Denise left. “Geez, she really has it out for you.”

“She got on my bad side. The feeling is mutual.”

“Listen, I know she’s not the easiest to get along with, but she’s really reliable and great at organizing stuff like this. Plus when she cooks she makes a mean meatloaf.”

“In my experience meatloaf is not a good judge of character.”

Mark chuckled, “You’ve got me there.”

Denise tapped a fork against her water glass to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, now that it’s ten past two we can move into the sitting room and start the meeting.”

Everybody filed into the living room and took seats on the various couches and chairs sitting around the room.

“Barbara, could you read the agenda for today?” Denise asked.

“Today we have four items on the agenda. First off, we need a substitute recorder since I’ll be going on a cruise with my family next month. Then Kami has an announcement, Laura will pass out the seeds we picked last month, and we have a guest that would like to speak today.”

“Thank you Barbara. Would anyone like to be acting recorder next month?”

“I could do it,” Mark spoke up. “If it’s just for next month.”

Barbara scribbled some notes in her folders and nodded, “Thank you, Mark. I can give you all the papers you’ll need after the meeting.”

“Sure thing.”

“Kami, what do you have for us today?” asked Laura.

Kami got up and started passing out fliers like the one she gave Dean yesterday. “Thanks, so much. As some of you may know my church is having an Easter egg hunt and barbecue tomorrow, and everyone is welcome.”

She finished passing around the fliers and Cas stopped paying attention when somebody asked about parking. He was staring out the window and watching the tree outside grow when he realized Laura was talking to him. 

“-enough seed packets to go around. I hope you’re okay with that.” She really didn’t care if he was okay with it, but she still wanted to rub it in.

“I don’t mind at all,” Cas smiled tightly.

Barbara interrupted their glaring to ask Cas if he would like to talk now.

Cas smiled and stood up. He held up the pamphlet Laura had given him yesterday. “I was reading through this pamphlet the other day and I have to say I’m a bit disappointed with the gardening standards set forth.”

“How so?” asked Barbara.

“Well, I guess that I just thought that since this is such a beautiful and welcoming community that the gardening standards wouldn’t be so outdated. Strictly growing flowering plants does not make your garden better; in fact I think it’s better to have a variety of plants. It makes the garden feel more symmetrical and balanced. Plus, some flowers hardly last longer than a week or so before they lose all of their petals, and some flowers can have green petals. The guidelines in this pamphlet are so restricting that you can’t even grow strawberries.”

“Strawberries are toxic to dogs!” Laura interrupted.

“Actually, both dogs and cats can eat strawberries and they make a beautiful potted plant.”

“But we can’t just have gardens full of leaves. That’s ridiculous. It would look like none even cares,” Laura argued.

“Non-flowering plants come in a variety of colors and shapes, like caladium which can have any combination of green, white and pink in their leaves.” He pulled out several small potted plants from his bag, all caladiums. One was bone white, another green with pink veins, and another bright red with a green ring around the outside. 

There were several Ooos and Ahs from the rest of the committee. One person said, “I’ve always wanted to try growing dusty millers. They look like they’ve just been frosted over all year.”

Someone else said, “I’ve had to hire a gardener to grow my flowers for me because of my allergies, but I would love to be able to work on my own garden if I can grow something else.”

“I think Cas has a good point. Restricting the gardening standards to flowering plants is silly. We should be able to plant other kinds of plants as well,” added Mark.

“He just wants to grow weed in his garden!” Denise accused Cas. “What do you think ‘alternative healer’ means? He’s going to sell drugs to the children and we’ll be known as the drug dealing neighborhood.”

“I do not grow my own marijuana. I have it imported from a medical company in Nigeria. I focus on growing and using my own herbs, but I typically do not use anything as strong as marijuana unless it’s for a serious condition and my patient has been given approval by their doctor beforehand. I run a respectable business, Denise. I have to say I’m rather disappointed that you would stoop to throwing around wild accusations just because things aren’t going your way.”

Denise didn’t respond, and the committee members whispered among themselves.

Barbara spoke, “The meeting is almost over, so I’d like to take a vote. All those in favor of changing the committee standards so that nonflowering plants will be allowed in gardens?”

Nearly everyone said aye.

“Those opposed?”

Just Denise and Laura said no.

“The aye’s have it,” said Laura. “Next time we can go over new regulations regarding nonflowering plants. Meeting adjourned.”

Everyone got up and milled about. Several members came over to talk to Cas. They were asking about his practice. What he did, what he could fix, how much his remedies cost, and what his website was called.

He really wished Sam had walked him through this part.

“Well, my website is down right now while I put in new stock. I’ve been working on several new remedies to add.”

“Well, what’s your website called, so I can look it up later when it’s back up?” one of the women asked him.

He tried to make up something on the spot, “Heaven’s Remedies.” He really hoped that wasn’t copyrighted yet.

“How sweet. I’m definitely going to check it out when you get it back up. My hands just get so dry and I need a lotion that doesn’t burn when I use it.”

“Could I see your hands?” he asked her.

“Oh, sure.” She held up her hands for him to inspect.

She really did have dry skin, and the cracking certainly didn’t make it any easier. “The lotions you use probably cause swelling and inflammation when they irritate the cuts, so I’d suggest a water based lotion with feverfew and aloe to reduce inflammation and itching as well as help any wounds from cracked skin heal faster. Would a lavender scented lotion work?”

“That sounds perfect. I love the smell of lavender. How soon could I get it?”

“I’d have to pick up a few things since I don’t have as many plants as I’d like right now, but I could make it by Monday if you’d like to stop by and pick it up.”

“That would be just great. Where do you live?”

~~

When Dean woke up when he heard the doorbell ring. That tune was growing on him. He checked the clock as he got up and threw on a shirt and a pair of sweats. It was just past two, so Cas was probably raining down brimstone and hellfire on the gardening people. The doorbell rand and he reluctantly made his way downstairs. “Just a moment!” he yelled.

He hissed when he got downstairs and stepped off the carpeted stairs and onto the cold hardwood floors. He opened the door and almost missed the little girl in pigtails standing on his doorstep. 

“Hey there,” he smiled at her.

“Hi, I’m selling girl scout cookies!”

“No shi- I mean, no way! That’s awesome. I haven’t had thin mints in forever. Hey, how many boxes you got on you right now?”

“Of thin mints?”

“Nah, just boxes of cookies.”

She wrinkled her nose and thought about it for a bit. “I only sold twelve boxes so I have eighty eight left.”

“Well you are one lucky girl scout, Pippy, because I’m gonna take them all.”

“Really!” she squealed.

He crossed his heart, “Scouts honor.”

She ran squealing back to the blue minivan parked in front of the house and started shouting at her dad, who was driving her around. He got out of the car and after talking to her for a bit and went to talk to Dean.

“Sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m not sure my kid heard you right. How many boxes did you want to order?”

“No, she heard right. I’m buying all of them. Do you guys take credit cards?”

The man looked stunned, “All of them?” he asked again.

Dean leaned closer, “Between you and me, I haven’t had girl scout cookies since I was in high school. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

The man laughed and threw up his hands, “Alright, if you say so. I’ll get my iPad so I can take your card.”

Dean ran upstairs to dig his wallet out of yesterday’s jeans. When he came back downstairs the girl scout was practically vibrating. She was holding a precariously stacked armful of cookies that her dad kept trying to keep from falling. Dean handed his card to the man and took the stack of cookies from the girl. “I’m just gonna throw these in the kitchen, or maybe the living room. I don’t think they’ll all fit in the kitchen.”

It took several trips, but eventually the three of them got all of the boxes into the living room. Before they left the girls dad thanked Dean, “I think you’re a little crazy, but I can’t tell you how happy you made Ashton today. She’s going to win the cookie sales competition for sure this year.”

“Hey glad I could help.” He laughed and waved goodbye when Ashton rolled down her window and almost fell out of the car, waving frantically.

He shut the door and walked into the living room. Cookie boxes were stacked against the wall randomly. A few had toppled over, so he had to pick his way around cookie boxes to get to the couch. He grabbed a box of tagalongs and flopped down on the couch. The remote was thankfully uncovered on the coffee table, so he turned on the TV and settled back to watch cartoons and eat a whole butt load of cookies.

Sam was going to hate him when he found out.

He didn’t have to wait long. When Cas got back from the garden meeting he kidnapped Sam to help him make a website. Sam wasn’t too happy about tripping over the cookie boxes, or learning how much Dean spent on them.

“What are you doing!? Do you know how much we had to spend on this mission already? The credit card company is probably going to cancel the card just because of that order! Nobody buys eighty eight boxes of cookies for no reason! What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking this was a great idea like two hours ago,” Dean said.

Sam saw all the empty boxes on the couch, “Dude, how many of these things did you eat?”

“I don’t know but I’m not stopping until I puke.”

Sam snatched the box he had open out of his hands, “Like hell you are. You’re going to make yourself sick eating all these.”

“Come on Sammy,” Dean whined, “I already bought the cookies.”

“No, you can eat two boxes a day, but that’s it. And you have to start exercising to stay in shape.”

Dean whined, “Sammy.”

“Nope, you bought the cookies, so you can suffer. Come on, Cas. Let’s go set up your website and I’ll teach you how to mail packages.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh I didn't feel like checking the rough draft so tell me if there's anything glaringly obvious. This one was more just story progression so I can get to the fun stuff tomorrow. Thanks to everybody for leaving comments and kudos!


	9. Sunday School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Suddenly Castiel was alone in a room full of children and he had no idea what to do next."
> 
> Poor child has no idea what to do with actual children, also happy Easter.

Cas woke Dean up as ass o’clock in the morning.

“Oh, god. Why is it so early,” he groaned and rolled out of bed.

“You were the one that wanted to attend church.”

“It was meant to be payback, not self-torture.”

Dean was pulling a t-shirt out of the closet when Cas stopped him. “It’s formal wear. Do you want to borrow one of my shirts?”

“I still haven’t washed my FBI suit, so what do you got?”

Cas rummaged around and tossed a red button up shirt and a silver tie at him. 

“Thanks. I think I’ve got another pair of dress pants around here somewhere.”

“I’ll get breakfast ready,” Cas said and walked downstairs.

“Thanks, babe,” Dean yelled after him.

He hoped into the shower and scrubbed away his sleepiness. Drying his hair he looked into the mirror and ran his hand through it a couple times. “Good enough.”

He threw on the big fluffy robe they had gotten at bed bath and beyond and walked downstairs. On the counter was the most beautiful omelet Dean had ever seen, but Cas was by the garbage can, scraping out the remains of a mangled egg.

Dean leaned on the edge of the island countertop in the middle of the kitchen. “So, where’d you get this?” he pointed to the perfectly set plate on a dish they obviously didn’t own.”

“I made it.”

“Mm hmm, and where did you make it?” Dean asked, unconvinced.

Cas glared at him, “France.”

Dean smiled, “Sweet!” He picked up the fork and dug into the omelet. “But you really need to learn to cook. You can’t keep stealing people’s food.”

“I leave compensation.”

“Not the point. It’s probably freaky too; finding out somebody broke into your house to steal your breakfast. I don’t need you giving little old ladies heart attacks.”

Cas huffed and threw the pan into the sink, “Fine.”

“That’s the spirit! Lemme just change and we can go. Do we need to bring anything with us? Do they pass around a collection or something?”

“No, the members pay tithes.”

“Huh, ok.”

Dean brushed his teeth, and got dressed. He had to say he looked good in slacks.

They got into the car and Dean realized he had no idea how to get there. He remembered seeing a church just past the gate, so he decided to try for that one before admitting anything.

It was a short drive, but spring had sprung. Trees were budding and flowers were in bloom. Cas saw several houses had already started changing their gardens now that they had newfound freedom. Ah, he still had to make lotion before tomorrow. He could do that tonight. The parking lot was crowded, so Dean parked in at the middle school just down the road.

“It’s crazy packed today. I thought the huge mass on Easter was a Catholic thing.”

“It’s prevalent in almost all Christen based religions.”

“I hope they have enough seats. I can’t stand for that long.”

When they got inside they were directed to some open seats and given a program by two young boys in little suits and ties.

The chamber where the service was held had been extended by opening up the collapsible wall between it and the gym. More boys and men in suits and ties were setting up row after row of metal fold out chairs. One woman was going through the rows and placing green books on every other seat. Cas and Dean sat down next to a family of five and Dean looked at the book. Hymns. Hopefully he didn’t have to sing.

The man next to them introduced himself as Brother Hummel and his wife as Sister Hummel. Their kids were ages five, two and six months. Dean felt sorry for the kid named Lehi. That name wasn’t going to make elementary school easy.

Brother Hummel asked if they were new and Dean tried to explain they were just visiting, so naturally he got several invitations from the surrounding Mormons, who seemed to think eavesdropping was the norm, to stay for the meetings after sacrament and come back next week. He also got invited to help chaperone the boy scouts on Wednesday. That actually sounded like fun. He might actually do that.

When the meeting started Dean tried to copy everybody else and put his head down when somebody started praying into the microphone. Then suddenly, like a wave of eerily coordinated military soldiers every single person in the room stood up with their hymn books in hand and the organ started playing. Dean hurried to stand up, and Cas was flipping to the right page in the hymn book.

Dean just kind of mouthed the words from the book Cas was sharing with him, but he could hear Cas singing next to him. His voice blended perfectly with the great cacophony of singing worshipers.

_I know that my Redeemer lives._  
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!  
He lives, he lives, who once was dead. 

He was actually pretty good at this. Dean wondered if heaven really did have a choir of angels. He tried not to laugh as an image of Cas in the whole angel getup with his same grumpy face popped into his head.

After the song ended some of the older men sitting up on the stage got up to speak and then the room just fell into a dead silence. Dean looked around with confusion. The only sounds he could hear were the occasional screaming child. Someone started praying into a microphone again, so dean bowed his head again.

When the prayer ended it was still absolutely silent. He was starting to get goosebumps. This was usually the part where the blood ritual or sacrifice would start if this were a cult. A train of boys in suits and ties marched down the aisle in perfect unison carrying little silver trays. Without a word they lined up and then split up to distribute whatever was in the trays in perfect unison. They worked their way down aisles, trading off the trays without missing a beat. Dean was very much freaked out by now, but Cas looked fine so nothing unusual was going on. 

When the silver trays got to their row Dean started to worry. Should he eat whatever was on it? Was he not supposed to? What was the proper etiquette for this? He didn’t have to worry too much since Cas took the tray for him and passed it on to the family next to them. He watched the five year old grab a piece of bread and pass the tray to his parents. 

After a while the silence was broken by what sounded like the same prayer, but this time the boys passed out tiny plastic water cups. This had to be some sort of ritual. It reminded him of catholic mass, but there wasn’t any wine. He wanted to ask Cas about the ceremony but he was afraid of breaking the silence.

When it finally ended he whispered to Cas, “What was all that about?”

Cas whispered back, “It’s meant to represent the flesh and blood of Crist, who they believed bled and died to redeem the sins of man.”

“That’s kinda freaky.”

“No more so than pretending to marry an angel to hunt down a ghost horse.”

“Touché.” 

The old guy that started the meeting stood back up and asked for people to come share their testimonies, whatever that meant. After the first five people had come up and shared their testimony over tears, Dean became very, very bored. This was supposed to go on for three whole hours. He should have never agreed to this. He should have gone back to bed this morning.

He was interrupted from his brooding thoughts when the five year old next to him tugged on his sleeve.

“What’s up kiddo?” he whispered.

The kid didn’t say anything, instead he handed Dean a broken crayon and put his coloring book in Dean’s lap. 

“Whatcha drawing?” he looked at the page, filled in with scribbles. “Wow, you’re really good at this.”

The kid giggled and started coloring the page on Dean’s lap, so Dean joined in and tried to color the house inside the lines while the kid kept scribbling all over.

“Very nice. You’re a real Picasso, you know that?” he told him.

They sat together and colored several more pages. The kid’s mom passed him a bag of goldfish and a sippy cup. He handed Dean the cup and ate some goldfish. He stood up on the chair and tried to shove one of the goldfish into Dean’s mouth.

“No, no it’s fine. You can eat them. I already ate,” he tried to talk the kid down but he wasn’t having any of it and Dean eventually relented, opening his mouth so the kid could cram in a goldfish.

He heard the kid’s mom quietly laughing at him. “Lehi, leave him alone. He doesn’t want any,” she scolded him.

Ah, this was the kid with the unfortunate name. “I don’t mind,” he told her, and Lehi shoved another goldfish in his mouth. After he finished his snack he crawled off the chair and pulled out a book from his mom’s bag. He crawled back into his seat and plopped himself down in Dean’s lap. Dean chuckled and Lehi opened the book and looked up at Dean expectantly. Dean leaned down and whispered children’s bible stories to Lehi until everybody started singing again. Lehi took over the hymn book and Dean and Cas tried to follow along with Lehi pointing all over the page and singing random words he recognized.

When everybody started standing up to disperse, Dean picked up Lehi so he could give him back to his mom.

“Thanks so much for playing with him, I hope he didn’t bother you too much,” she apologized.

“Not at all. It was fun, right buddy?” he asked Lehi.

Lehi chewed on his finger and bobbed his head up and down.

“Could I ask you for a favor? I need to change Joseph’s diaper and my husband is taking Anistyn home because she’s not feeling good. Do you think you could bring Lehi to the Sunbeam classroom?”

“Uh, sure. Where is it?”

“It’s just down the hall that way. Ask somebody if you get lost. Thanks so much,” she grabbed her littlest one and her huge diaper bag and disappeared.

“Well buddy,” Dean said to Lehi, “Let’s get you to class.”

He started out the doors and tried to find the classrooms through the throng of people. None of these doors had any sort of signs or labels on them. He lost Cas somewhere along the way and tried a classroom with kids that looked about Lehi’s age.

“Is this the Sunbeam classroom?” he asked the woman who was organizing stacks of coloring pages. 

“Yes it is. Hello Lehi, who’s your friend.”

Lehi ducked his head and refused to talk.

She sighed, “He’s not great with new people, and I just started teaching this class a week ago.”

“Hey little man, you ready to learn some stuff? I can see coloring book pages,” Dean said to Lehi.

Lehi shook his head and clung to Dean.

The woman smiled at him, “Aww he really likes you.” She held out her hand, “I’m Sister Powell.”

Dean gave her a firm handshake, “Dean Singer.”

She gave him a funny look and asked, “Are you new here?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, it’s just that everyone goes by their last names.”

“Like The Crucible?”

“Yeah, but replace goody with sister or brother.”

“Learn something new every day.”

“Are you just visiting today?”

“Yeah I figured Easter, I may as well go, and I saw a flier for this church.” He hefted Lehi, “Alright buddy, I need to put you down now before my arms fall off.”

Lehi consented to being put down but when Dean said goodbye and tried to leave Lehi had a breakdown. Sister Powell couldn’t get him to quiet down so Dean sat down on the floor with him and calmed him down.

“Since you’re visiting today, how’d you like to be my teaching assistant? Just for today,” she asked. She looked a little desperate so Dean said yes and ended up dancing with five year-olds to a song about melting snowmen. He completely forgot about Cas.

~~

Cas saw Dean walk off with a kid and grumbled something under his breath about Dean being a hypocrite, but before he could follow he was stopped by Kami, he recognized her from the meeting yesterday, and another man he didn’t know.

She shook his hand, “Sister Olsen. I remember you from the gardening committee yesterday.”

Cas smiled and nodded. He shook the man’s hand too. He introduced himself as Brother Grant.

Kami turned to Brother Grant, “This is Brother Singer, the one I was telling you about.”

“Brother Singer, I’m sorry to spring this on you, but could I ask you to take over the Young Women’s class? We were praying to figure out who should be the next teacher for that class and wouldn’t you know the name Singer just kept popping up. Now, we don’t have any Singers here, so when Kami told me about you, I just knew it had to be the Holy Spirit guiding you here.”

Cas tried to decline their offer, “I’m sorry I’m not even a member. I was just visiting.”

One of the men that had been sitting behind Cas through Sacrament jumped in, “But I heard you explaining the purpose of the Sacrament to your friend earlier?”

“Well, yes I have studied Mormonism extensively,” Cas admitted.

“That’s perfect,” said Kami, “You don’t have to become the regular teacher if you don’t want to. Just think of today as a test run. How about it?”

Cas couldn’t think of a way out of this one and he already lost Dean, “Alright.”

They whisked him off to a room in the back of the building full of teenage girls. “Girls, this is Brother Singer. He’s going to be your sub today, so be nice.”

Suddenly Castiel was alone in a room full of children and he had no idea what to do next.

“Ah, this is my first time teaching, so I’m not sure how this works,” he tried. “What does your normal teacher do?” he asked.

One of the girls spoke up, “Usually she prepares a lesson on a part of the scriptures and we talk about that, but its Easter today, so you can teach us about the resurrection.”

“Alright, I think I can manage that.” Cas sat down in the chair facing the rest of the room. “The story of the trials and crucifixion of Christ is one of the most inspiring stories among religious martyrs, besides perhaps Joan of Arc. He gave up everything for his faith and forgave even those that beat and insulted him while he was wounded, unfairly punished him, and betrayed his trust. There was not a single person in his eyes that could not be redeemed. How many of you really, truly believe you could have forgiven those people while you died on a cross alone, humiliated, naked, and forsaken by even your own god.”

A few tentative hands started to rise, but Cas’s sweeping stare had them lowering their arms.

“The interesting thing about Mormonism is the belief that resurrection will land everyone back here, on Earth. A world wiped clean of sin and transgression will become populated anew with the bodies of the resurrected. Those that were debilitated will be made new and those that were too young or old will be given immortality and youth. Earth will become a paradise like Heaven. It seems rather counterproductive since all of the souls in heaven have to pack up and move to Earth eventually. There’s also the population density to worry about. Heaven is boundless, but Earth has very clear boundaries.”

One of the girls raised her hand, “But isn’t God’s power limitless? Can’t he just make more room?”

“Theoretically speaking, yes. But it just seems like a waste,” Cas said. “Back to the resurrection. It is because of his sacrifice that Mormonism, unlike Catholicism for example, no longer believes in original sin, or the belief that every child of Adam and Eve must bear the sin of the fall of mankind.”

One of the older girls, the only one with dyed hair, raised her hand, “I don’t understand why Adam and Eve were blamed for eating the fruit anyways. I mean, God had them in a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation anyhow.” 

One of the other girls angrily said, “Alesha, we all know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean you have to try and ruin every Sunday for everybody else.”

“No, she makes a good point,” interrupted Cas. “Why were Adam and Eve and all of their descendants blamed for eating the fruit when god specifically told them that they must be fruitful and multiply to be righteous? There are many contradictions in your scripture where God deliberately sets his faithful followers on the path of sin to tempt and torture them.”

“But those are all tests, right? Like with Job,” one of the girls tried to defend.

“Job is an interesting story. A man who did exactly as God asked and was blessed with untold riches is one day, without reason or explanation, stripped of everything and cursed with disease. He did no wrong and begged for god to at least tell him why he was suffering. He begged for a reason, what had he done wrong? Not once did he blame God for his misfortunes, just himself, because he did not believe God to be irrational enough to take without reason. God does not answer him, so he discusses the works and ways of God with others and comes to the conclusion,” Cas borrowed one of the girls’ scriptures and flipped to the story of Job. “Job chapter 21:30-32, ‘ _That the wicked is reserved to the day of destruction? they shall be brought forth to the day of wrath. Who shall declare his way to his face? and who shall repay him what he hath done? Yet shall he be brought to the grave, and shall remain in the tomb._ ’ Does anyone understand what Job is saying here?”

One of the younger girls raised her hand. “Go ahead,” said Cas.

“He’s saying that it doesn’t matter what he has to go through while he’s on Earth because when we die the wicked will be judged in heaven, even if they aren’t suffering on Earth.”

“Very good. He has come to the conclusion that God must still be fair, so even though the righteous suffer on Earth and the wicked live lives of languish, this short existence on Earth is maybe a week compared to the eternal lives we live in heaven. You just have to finish this trial period on Earth, so to speak, in order to be deemed righteous.”

“Isn’t that just an excuse?” asked the girl with dyed hair.

“It all depends on how you look at it, Alesha. If the scripture is to be believed then God is all knowing and such a trial as life on Earth is pointless since God already knows exactly what decisions you will make. Perhaps this life is an atonement for the sins you will commit.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. We were given free will when we came to Earth. It’s the whole reason Satan was banished from Heaven,” argued the older girl that had snapped at Alesha.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been learning names.”

“Kiara.”

“Well, Kiara, that’s true. In this scripture Lucifer is cast out from heaven for his defiance of God’s plan for humanity, because he instead wanted to take free will from them so that everyone would go through their life on Earth perfect and blameless. It sounds nice, doesn’t it? Everyone ends up in Heaven and goes through life free of sin. Does anyone have an idea as to why God chose to give humanity free will?”

A few girls raised their hands, Cas pointed at another one of the younger girls, “What’s your name?”

“Olivia.”

“Why do you think free will is important, Olivia?”

“It’s important because otherwise I’d be a robot.”

“And what’s so bad about being a robot?”

“Um, robots don’t have feelings?”

“Interesting,” said Cas. “Olivia is suggesting that without free will we give up emotions, our ability to react and feel based on outside influences. Our lives are not truly our own unless we have the ability to react to events not based on a predetermined set of instructions, but on our own knowledge and experiences. Does anyone else have any ideas?”

Alesha raised her hand, “I think the idea of free will gives people a purpose. Like, I think a lot of people would just give up if they believed in predestination instead of free will.”

Cas tilted his head, “So you believe that rather than free will, we possess merely the illusion of free will?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, God already knows everything, right?”

“But you don’t.”

“What?”

“God knows everything, but you don’t. Isn’t that what matters? You still have the ability to influence your own life and make your own decisions. You still grow and learn and create, as opposed to letting someone else control you. God may already know what you will do, but isn’t there something that you are so thankful for learning, or seeing, or doing, or someone you’re so incredibly happy to know that it makes this struggle worth it? This world is a fantastic place, and the pure unbridled potential that you possess offers you a myriad of possible futures. Worrying about what God already knows will not change what you know. You have been given free will as a gift. Maybe you’ll end up surprising even heaven with what you can do.”

~~

Cas found Dean outside after classes ended, walking around on his knees and holding a toddler’s hand. 

“Hey, Cas!” Dean was all smiles and egg hunting. “I’ll come find you after the egg hunt is over, okay?” I promised Lily here I was going to help her find some eggs before all the big kids get to them.” 

“I’ll get you a hamburger,” Cas said. He got in line for the barbecue and ended up with a plate piled high with three kinds of meat, and four kinds of salad and a roll. He wandered around and ran into a familiar face.

“How did class go?” asked Brother Grant.

“I may have drifted off topic and gone into the theology of the matter one too many times,” Cas admitted.

“Well the girls look like they had fun, and my girl has been yacking her mother’s ear off about your lesson today.”

Cas saw Dean coming over, so he excused himself, “Excuse me, I see my husband over there.”

Brother Grant’s smile fell, and he didn’t ask Cas if he wanted to be the permanent teacher for the class again. Thank goodness.

Dean jogged up and took the plate from Cas, giving him an absentminded peck on the cheek before digging into the sloppy joe Cas made for him. Cas brushed off the gesture.

“You looked like you were having fun,” Cas said.

“I’m so tired right now. I’ve been trying to keep five year olds in line all day. It’s like herding cats! But it was a lot of fun. Did they have any cookies over there?”

“I didn’t visit the dessert table yet.”

“Well what are we waiting for, come on!” Dean dragged Cas away, but not before Cas noticed Kami staring at them. He looked away and followed Dean. It was probably nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only ever been to Mormon church, so Mormon church is where Dean and Cas go. I promise I'm not trying to be mean or anything, just point out how aspects of the religion would be weird to Dean and generally not match up with the show's canon. Also is it just me or does the story of Job fit Dean pretty well? He had everything taken from him, not because he needed to be punished, but because God already knew that he would be a righteous man. That's probably the most bible study I've ever done in one day.
> 
> Also I didn't get to stick this in but I wanted Cas to talk about Gabriel and how when he appeared to Mary it was more along the lines of "Hey, guess who's pregnant? You are! So here's how this whole blessed child biz is going to go down..." Just Cas reading scripture and going, "I don't remember Gabriel ever being so eloquent."


	10. Dinner With the Millers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "They’re like naïve little monster magnets."
> 
> They really are though, poor kids.

When Dean came downstairs Monday morning, he could have sworn he walked into a scene from Breaking Bad.

“Hey, Cas? You’d tell me if you were a drug dealer, right?” Dean asked, staring at the various flasks and beakers and burnt utensils.

“My job is similar to a pharmacist, if that’s what you’re asking.” Cas was staring at small bowl of something purple and smelly, like those potpourri plates that old people put in their bathrooms.

Dean eyed the desk fan Cas had taped to the ceiling to blow some sort of gas out the kitchen window warily. “None of this stuff is toxic, right?”

“Not unless it’s ingested.” Cas spooned the smelly, goopy mixture into a fancy looking skin crème container and sealed the mixture, sticking a label on top that said “do not eat” and placing it in the fridge.

Dean peered over Cas’s shoulder to see several similar neatly stacked containers taking up a whole fridge shelf. “You sure you’re not a drug dealer?” Dean tried to clarify.

“This is all perfectly legal. A woman should be coming by today to pick up a hand lotion she ordered, so could you get the door if the bell rings? I’m at a very delicate stage, and I can’t risk burning the caramelized sugar.”

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t blow up the house or anything, okay?” Dean pleaded.

“I can manage that.”

Dean probably should have made sure he wouldn’t burn down the kitchen either. Oh well. Dean flopped down on the couch and opened his laptop. He really needed to work on this case more. He’d been spending too much time messing around. He couldn’t afford to waste time like that anymore.

He typed horse monster mythology into the search bar and opened a box of samoas. He scrolled through several pages.

Water based spirit.

Hippocampi.

Lake monster.

Scotland.

Scotland.

Scotland.

Man, they really had a lot of horse monsters over there. He found a wiki page on Chinese monsters, but none of them fit the bill, and typically the Asian monsters stayed in Asia anyways. Well, except for that one time, but it was only because someone took something back with them.

Dean tapped rhythmically on his keys, thinking. What if this creature wasn’t supposed to be here? What if someone else unknowingly brought it here? But horses have even been incorporated into some Native American mythos.

He opened a new page. American horse monsters. It wouldn’t be the first time colonial myths and native American lore turned out to be real. He clicked through the results.

Chupacabra.

The Beast of Bladenburough. He stopped and looked over that one. Giant vampire cats. He really hoped he never ran into something like that.

Wendigo. Definitely not a wendigo.

He was searching too far south. Maybe there was something in the Canadian legends. Maybe it wasn’t a horse, per say. Maybe it was just something with hooves. He tried looking, but moose were the only other thing heavy enough to make a sound like that, and they were generally not considered monsters. It had to be a horse. Dean sighed heavily. Maybe it was out of place. 

He went back to the links for Scottish monster lore and clicked on one. Most of the entries were kelpies, or monsters very similar to kelpies. But that didn’t work. They all lived in some body of water. If this thing was haunting the neighborhood then it couldn’t be a water monster.

He clicked around some more. The Greeks really loved horses, sometimes in the physical sense. None of the centaurs fit the bill. It couldn’t be any of these divine horses. None of them would be set on such a small area, and most all of them didn’t kill like this.

Just for fun he clicked on Haizum, an Islamic Pegasus said to be the angel Gabriel’s steed. Well it certainly wasn’t Gabriel’s dimension hopping, snow white pony killing in the suburbs. Dean tried to picture Gabriel on a horse. He couldn’t do it, not without imagining the rest of the cowboy gear and that wasn’t somewhere Dean wanted to go.

The doorbell rang and Dean shut the laptop to get up. He opened the door and let the woman inside.

“You’re here to pick up a lotion, right?” he asked her.

“Yes, Cas said he would have it ready by now. I can come back later if he’s busy,” she said.

Dean tried to block her view of the kitchen. He didn’t need anyone calling them in for an in-home meth lab. 

“Cas!” he yelled, “She’s here!”

Cas must’ve stabilized whatever he was working on, because he came over with a jar in hand. He handed it to the woman and she gave him a twenty.

“Just use it whenever your skin starts to feel dry, or your hands get any cuts or cracks,” he told her.

“Thank you so much. I really hope this one works better than the last few I tried. I swear I’ve been through a mountain of these things just trying to find something that doesn’t irritate my skin.”

Dean slipped away while Cas gossiped and opened back up the laptop. He smiled at page he had left up. He had to ask Cas about that later.

Dean spent most of the day searching through link after link, hoping something would click. Cas cleaned up the kitchen a little and proudly showed Dean the webpage Sam helped him set up. He explained that several people had already begun ordering products, so Cas was stocking up so that he could start shipping soon. He spent most of last night putting together herbal tea remedies and restocking. Dean was surprised at the attention Cas’s website was getting. It had only been up for a day and already people were ordering weeks in advance. Cas said it was because one of the soccer moms in the gardening committee had tried his tea, and said she would write a blog article about it. Never underestimate the power of a good mom blog review, he supposed. 

Dean found himself staring at the clock on his laptop. His eyes were starting to sting so he shut the lid and put it aside.

“Wasn’t there something we were supposed to do today?” he wondered out loud.

“We still have to attend dinner tonight at the Millers as the guests of honor.”

Dean sagged, “When’s that?”

Cas looked at the wall clock in the kitchen, “In about half an hour. You should get ready.”

“And you should make sure you don’t smell like my high school biology teacher. I’m still pretty sure that guy got high off formaldehyde fumes when we weren’t looking.”

“That’s impossible, though it is possible to dip cigarettes in PCP to enhance the chemical effect on the brain when taken with perhaps hallucinogenic but the risks associated with ingesting or inhaling the chemicals far outweighs any perceived benefit.”

“It was a joke. The dude wasn’t right in the head. He sniffed worms and his office was full of preserved organs and tapeworms in fancy glass jars. Now that I think about it the guy probably wasn’t human. Wait, do I need to wear something nice or can I just wear this?” Dean gestured to his cookie crumb and powdered sugar covered t-shirt.

Cas looked him up and down before sending him upstairs for a fresh change of clothes and to wash up a little.

When it got closer to six they headed over to the Millers’ house. Cas had come to like doorbells and slapped Dean’s hand away when he tried to ring it first.

“Real mature, Cas,” Dean muttered.

Carl let them in. He gave them both a brief nod. Dean nodded back. A man of few words. He could respect that. 

Kate came downstairs and her whole face lit up when she saw Dean and Cas. She practically squealed with delight and dragged them past the entryway and into the living room.

“Come in! Come in and sit down. I’ll call Alec down.” Kate walked over to the stairs and yelled shrilly, “Alec! It’s almost time for dinner!”

A huge grey fluffy cat sauntered in and sat down right between Cas and Dean on the couch like they were both just large throw pillows.

“Oh, I forgot to ask if either of you is allergic to cats,” apologized Kate.

“We’re both good,” said Dean.

Cas reached over and started petting that cat. He inspected the gold plated nametag with ICHABOD in swirling cursive. Humans were odd creatures.

“That’s Ichabod. She hasn’t tried to claw you yet, so she must like you,” Kate smiled cheerily before screaming Alec’s name again.

“I’m coming already!” was screamed back this time.

“Carl, honey, why don’t you go check on the pot roast. It should be done by now, right?”

Carl nodded and ambled off to the kitchen.

Kate sat down in the loveseat across from Dean and Cas and leaned in conspiratorially, “Sooooo, I hear you two are new to the neighborhood. When’d you move in?”

Dean started counting on his fingers, “Let’s see. We moved in Monday, so that makes a week today.”

Kate laughed, her teeth flashing, “Well congratulations on surviving your first week.”

Dean laughed, “Yeah, the neighborhood has been pretty great so far. Cas started his herb garden.”

Cas looked up from the cat, “I had a few… disagreements with the lawn and garden committee at first, but we worked those out fairly easily.”

“Oh. Where did you both move from?”

Alec came downstairs and sat down beside her mom. Kate put an arm around her daughter and kissed her forehead. Alec leaned against her mom, pink hair spilling over the both of them.

“We got married in Kansas and had the honeymoon in Madrid,” said Cas. 

Dean added, “We came here to settle down after we got back to the states.”

“Ooo, Madrid! How exciting!” Kate squeezed Alec.

Cas picked up Ichabod and peered into her eyes. “Does your cat experience any sight problems?”

Kate looked thoughtful, “Now that you mention it, she has been bumping into things a lot lately.”

“I thought it was just the catnip mouse,” Alec said to her mom.

Kate laughed again. “Ichabod is always getting into the catnip,” she told them.

“Ichabod seems to be losing her sight,” Cas informed them.

“Oh, dear. The poor thing. Carl! We need to schedule an appointment with the vet!” Kate yelled towards the kitchen.

Alec winced and pulled away when her mom yelled.

Carl came out and put his hand on Kate’s shoulder. She put her hand over his and asked, “Is dinner ready?”

He nodded so Kate herded them all into the dining room. The roast beef Carl made was heavenly alongside the garlic mashed potatoes, orange glazed carrots and fresh baked biscuits. Dean may have had five of the biscuits. Cas passed up the roast beef in favor of fried tofu. 

“Are you a vegetarian too?” she asked Cas.

“I am.”

“You know Carl is too. Has been for five years now, all for the old ticker,” she tapped his chest and he smiled fondly at her. “My poor mother, she’s got heart problems too, so Carl tries to make sure we’re all eating healthy. I was visiting her last month and I said, mom you’ve got to stop going through a tub of mayonnaise a week.”

Dean looked at her in disbelief, “A whole tub? Does she eat it like ice cream?”

Kate and Alec both made the same face. “Goodness no, but she puts it on absolutely everything.”

“It never hurts to try and eat something green on occasion,” Cas looked at Dean.

“I eat green things!” Dean protested.

“In burgers?” asked Cas.

Kate chuckled, “You two are just so cute.”

Cas and Dean looked at each other. Cas laughed and Dean looked away. That asshole. He didn’t do cute.

“Dean doesn’t do cute,” said Cas.

“If you say so,” teased Kate.

Alec twirled her fork in her potatoes. She kept looking at them, like really looking, and Dean was trying really hard to ignore it. “Are you a doctor?” Alec suddenly asked Cas.

“I practice alternative healing and manufacture my own natural medications.”

“But did you go to, like medical school or something?” Alec asked

“Yes I have all the required degrees and certifications to practice.”

Alec narrowed her eyes and hummed. Her mom pointed her fork at her and said, “Hey, no interrogating guests.”

“Just asking,” she mumbled.

“Are you perhaps interested in pursuing a career in medicine?”

She shook her head. “I want to be a linguistics major. I’m teaching myself Latin right now.”

“She started studying Latin because it was in her favorite book series. She’s gotten so good at it!” Kate gushed.

“Moooooom!” Alec complained.

“Oh, but you are! Just yesterday she was practicing Latin and she sounded so fluent.”

“I’m not fluent. I can just sound out words,” she protested.

“Nonsense. She was describing Denise. Do you know Denise? She said she was, oh what was it, Alec?”

“Nec sapit pueri instar bimuli termula patris dormientis in ulna,” Alec said.

Dean choked on his beef and reached for his glass while Cas looked away.

Cas cleared his throat, “Was that Petronius?”

Alec smiled and nodded. She got that funny look on her face again and asked, “Do you have any family in Kansas?”

“That’s right! You said you both were from Kansas. Did you leave behind any relatives?” Kate asked curiously.

Dean shook his head, “No, not really. My parents both passed away years ago. So it’s not like I was leaving anyone behind.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Kate.

“You don’t have a b- any siblings?” asked Alec, confused.

Dean put down his glass and looked at her. “No. I don’t.”

“How about you, Cas?” Kate asked. “Do you have any family back in Kansas?”

“Not really. I’ve lost touch with many of my brothers and sisters, and my father had never really been a strong presence in my life,” Cas said.

“So if Castiel is a doctor, then what are you?” Alec asked.

“Ex vet,” said Dean.

“And your Dad?”

“Same thing. I picked up where he left off.”

Dean and Alec glared at each other over across the table. Kate wacked Alec’s arm and gave her a shut-up-already-face.

Alec sullenly stopped asking questions and pushed around the remains of her potatoes and carrots.

There was something weird about that kid. Something unnerving. Dean suddenly realized that Cas never said his name was Castiel. Alright, so maybe she knew something he didn’t. Two could play at that game.

“You’re friends with Tabitha, right?” Dean asked nonchalantly.

Alec didn’t look smug anymore. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Poor kid ran into our mailbox the other day. She was talking about you while Cas was patching her up.”

“She mentioned that. Not the mailbox part, just the part where she crashed her bike and got some help.”

Dean bit back a yelp when Cas kicked his shin, but he did shut up. Dean and Alec maintained an uneasy truce through the rest of dinner while Kate chattered to everyone.

Just before they left Dean noticed the t-shirt Alec was wearing. Shiiiiiiiiit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. As soon as the door closed behind them Dean hissed to Cas, “She’s a fangirl.”

“A what?”

“You know those cult followers that Chuck had? She’s one of them. She read the books. She knows about us, and I think she’s onto us. Shit. Singer was way too obvious. Why did I let Sammy pick that one?” Dean ran his fingers back through his hair. He could already feel the headache coming on.

“Perhaps we can convince her that she was mistaken, that our presence is just a coincidence,” Cas reasoned.

“No, you haven’t dealt with these people like I have. I mean they’re mostly harmless, but a few of them are fucking insane and we can’t have her blowing our cover. They always get involved in whatever’s going on. Always. They’re like naïve little monster magnets.”

“I could always just make her forget,” Cas offered.

“No, she’d expect that.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean, I think you are overestimating this girl. She just got back from the hospital. There’s not much she can do as she is now.”

Dean sighed, “Maybe you’re right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Famous last words.
> 
> So I finally decided on a lot of the future plot, but I'm having problems with the gay thing. As you can see, it's not really obvious. I keep trying to write the gay things but Dean just keeps writing himself into denial. His emotionally repressed ass is making this really hard for me, so of course I have to do something really drastic. Let's hope they all get through it in one piece.
> 
> Oh, also that Latin phrase means He hasn't got the brains of a sleeping two-year-old rocked in the rook of his father's arm. I don't know enough Latin to change the subject to fit Denise so this is the best I could do. Castiel would find something like this hilarious, since it doesn't really make sense anymore and Enochian seems closer to Latin insult-wise.


	11. Trouble in Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Cas put his hands on Dean’s hips and Dean’s arm slowed."
> 
> I'll bet you wish this was exactly what it sounds like.

Dean peeked out the window and immediately ducked. “It’s Kami!” he whispered to Cas.

“Did she see you?” Cas whispered back

“No, I don’t think so, but she’s not going away.”

“Go get the door.”

“You get the door! I got it last time,” Dean whispered fiercely.

“But you’re better at dealing with people,” Cas argued.

“Alright, Roshambo,” Dean held up his fist. “Loser gets the door.”

Cas nodded and held up his own fist. “Ro-sham-bo…” Cas picked rock. “Damnit!” And Dean picked scissors.

Dean opened the door. “Heya, Kami. How’s it going?”

“Just fine. You know I saw you at church on Sunday and I heard Cas say that neither of you are Mormon, so I wanted to come by and give you some resources in case you were thinking about looking into the church and our beliefs.” She handed him a stack of books and an armful of papers and pamphlets. “I just wanted to let you know that we’d love to have you as members, and to make sure you know that you’re both welcome to come to come to church and any of our activities whenever. If you have any questions or anything I wrote my home number in the cover of the genealogy guide, and I can always help you get in contact with the bishop too if you need to see him.”

Dean tried desperately not to drop anything. He could feel the papers slipping out of his arms. “Well, this is, uh, thanks. I’ll definitely call you if I have any questions,” Dean told her.

“That’s great. The boy scout troop leader wanted you to know he was still hoping you would consider going to the next boyscout meeting tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it,” Dean started.

“That’s fine. I wrote down the next few scout meetings in the boy scouts handbook. It’s in there somewhere,” she gestured to the pile Dean was holding.

“Alright, I’ll think about it. Thanks for all this.”

“Sorry for popping in like this,” she apologized. “Oh, that’s right. Is Cas here? There was something I wanted to ask him.”

“Sure, why don’t you come in.” Dean dragged the pile into the kitchen and dumped it all on the island. A few odds and ends were pushed over the edge. “Hey, Cas. Kami wants to talk to you.”

Cas made a face.

“Hey, she asked for you specifically. Not my fault,” Dean dug through the pile and found a pen. “Cool, free pen,” he grabbed it and walked away. 

Kami was standing awkwardly in the entryway, but she had already taken off her shoes and shut the door behind her, Cas noted with annoyance.

“Hello, Kami,” Cas said. 

She smiled politely at him, “Hey, I actually wanted to ask about your herbal remedies.”

Cas brightened up slightly, “What about them?”

“Well I’ve got three sick kids on my hands right now. I had to miss church last Sunday because of it. My three year old won’t take his medicine and all three of them can’t sleep they spend all night sneezing and coughing. Do you have anything for flus that’s easy to get kids to take?” she asked.

He thought about it for a minute. “I can make a ginger and lemon tea, and add a few things to help with strengthening the immune system and easing flu symptoms. All you have to do is add honey to the tea until it’s sweet enough that your children will drink it.”

Kami sighed in relief, “That would be wonderful. I wasn’t sure about ordering from your website since I wanted to ask about all the ingredients you use. Sheryl was bragging about the lotion you sold her the other day and I knew I just had to try out your remedies.”

Cas mixed and crushed dried leaves, roots and lemon zest, explaining what each one did as he added them.

He sent Kami on her way with enough tea for her whole family. 

Cas tried to straighten up the papers on the island. A scrap of paper caught his eye among the booklets and pamphlets. He picked it up. It was a list of names. Some he didn’t recognize, but one he did. Betty. He pocketed the scrap and went through the papers, throwing most of them into the garbage. He kept the scriptures though. He liked reading about human religions.

Dean came back downstairs, polishing a silver knife, while Cas was finishing cleaning up. “She’s totally trying to convert us. Us,” Dean repeated. He chuckled.

~~

Dean dug the hose out of the garage and rummaged around for a bucket and a sponge. Hooking up the hose, Dean started spraying the impala down. He hadn’t had a chance to give his baby a good wash in forever. It was nice, having time to relax and take it slow.

Dean dropped the hose to pull off his shirt. It was way too hot outside today. He picked the hose back up and filled up the bucket. He had already squirted some soap in earlier, and the water foamed as the bucket filled. He picked up the sponge and walked around in the puddles on the driveway. The wet concrete was cool on his bare feet. He started with the windows, he always did. He stroked along the doors, and making sure to clean the rims of the tires out too. His baby was going to shine when he was done. He got down on his knees to scrub the bumper. He rinsed off part of the car and kept cleaning, rhythmic back and forth motions washing off the dirt and grime. He leaned forward, chest pressing against the wet surface, to reach more of the hood as white sudsy water trailed down the car and dripped onto the ground.

He was absentmindedly washing when he felt Cas behind him.

“Hey, Cas,” he acknowledged without turning around. 

Cas put his hands on Dean’s hips and Dean’s arm slowed. He stopped altogether when Cas leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Denise is taking a walk and I thought we could give her a show,” Cas breathed.

Dean could almost feel Cas’s smirk so he straightened up with Cas and turned around. Cas leaned into him, pushing Dean back onto the dripping wet hood of the car. The front of the impala faced the house, hiding their faces from anyone on the street.

“Hey, I’m gonna get all wet,” Dean protested.

“Isn’t that the point?” Cas asked innocently.

Dean briefly wondered if corrupting an angel was a major sin, because Cas should not be making innuendos like that and he and Sam were the most likely culprits. He was so getting sent back to Hell again. He lost his train of thought when Cas pinned his wrists against the hood of his impala. That should not have been as hot as it was. Sure, he’d always had a thing for doing kinky shit in and on the impala, but not with dudes. Cas leaned down into Dean’s space and just stared into his eyes. Cas was a dude. Neither moved, just breathing each other’s air and waiting. Waiting for what?

Cas peeked through the impala’s windows to see if Denise had been watching. Cas must’ve liked what he saw because he smirked and nuzzled Dean’s neck, nipping his way down to the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. He paused for a moment, and Dean could swear the heat was melting his brain because he should be more weirded out by this than he was. But then Cas bit down, hard, and Dean was so surprised that he honest to god moaned loud enough to give Denise nightmares all week.

“Woo! Take it all off!” shouted Tabitha’s grandpa from his usual spot on his porch across the street.

Denise yelled something about common decency, but he wasn’t sure who it was directed at.

Dean was equal parts mortified, amused, and confused. Denise was probably tripping over her uppity ass, but also what the hell was that?

Cas finally stood up, freeing Dean. The front of his shirt was sticking to his skin, damp from resting against Dean’s wet chest. This was… this was too much for Dean to deal with right now. He picked up his shirt, wet as it was from lying in a puddle, and tugged it back on. He didn’t say a word to Cas, just went right back to washing his car. Cas went back inside, which was just fine. 

Dean didn’t wait until the impala was dry. He got in, wet clothes and all, and started driving. He didn’t know where he was going, but he wasn’t staying in that house. He turned on the radio and blasted whatever was on, not really paying attention to the song. All that mattered was that it was loud.

He found a long strip of highway that was completely deserted. He floored it and hit ninety before he bothered slowing down at all. He drove for an hour, or maybe it was two, before he stopped at an out of the way gas station. Hopefully it wasn’t deserted. He filled up the tank and went inside to grab a few cases of beer.

~~

Sam started to worry when Dean sent him a few strange texts. They weren’t particularly alarming. It’s just that Dean usually didn’t just talk. He didn’t ask how Sam’s day was going and he didn’t ask if Sam was getting enough sleep. He didn’t tell Sam not to work too hard unless he was teasing, or shitfaced.

Sam got a call soon after, “Hey, Sammy. You should see this sunset. It’s fucking nice. We never talk anymore. We should talk more, you know? Just sit down and have a beer,” came Dean’s slurred chatter.

Definitely shitfaced then. “Dean, where are you?” he asked.

“I dunno. I just was driving, you know. And I found this river. It’s just a really nice sunset.”

Sam looked to the heavens for strength, “Okay. Dean? I need you to tell me what road you’re on. What road are you on right now?”

“I think it’s by the twenty-two,” said Dean

“Alright, don’t move. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there soon.” Sam ended the call and left his hotel room. He got into the rental and drove off, making his way onto the highway.

Sam found Dean and the impala on the side of the road, near a sad little river. Dean was sitting on the hood of the impala, the ground littered with empty beer bottles.

When he saw Sam pull up he smiled and waved him over, “Hey, Sammy! Come have a drink.”

Sam grabbed the beer his brother was holding out to him. He sat down next to dean and popped the cap off his beer, taking a drink. It was warm and cheap, but it was still beer.

“You wanna talk about this, or…?” Sam tried to start.

“Nothin’ to talk about,” Dean said weirdly firmly for being as drunk as he was.

“So nothing happened?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head.

“How’s the case going on your end?” he tried.

Dean flopped back on the hood and grunted. Sam lay back with him and looked up at the darkening sky. He could pick out pinpricks of light in the inky dark already.

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not,” Dean struggled, “It’s… good.”

“That’s good, right?”

“No, no, no,” Dean’s arm flopped over his eyes.

“So, it’s bad?”

Dean just shook his head some more.

“I don’t get it,” Sam said, frustrated. “What’s the problem? You and Cas are having fun messing with your neighbors and being all domestic.”

“That.”

“What? Being domestic?”

“No, just that. All of that. It’s all just another hunt. We do shit then we get out.”

“Right,” Sam encouraged, “But…?”

Dean sighed long and hard. “Do you remember when we were little? How much school sucked, being the new kid every few weeks?”

“Yeah, middle school was hell.”

“But there were one or two times when it was nice.” Dean swallowed. “When you found something that, just, worked. Even though everything kept going to shit that one thing made it all better, but the next day we just got up and left without a word because that’s the way things were. The way things are.”

Crickets chirped a lonely tune in the quiet of the night. Not even the wind disturbed them.

Sam tried to think through what Dean had said. “Dean, what we’re doing is saving people. We make sacrifices for that, yeah, but we’ll always be there for each other. You’ll always have me. We’ll always have each other, but Dean, the longer we stay the more people will die. You can’t try and drag this out just because you want to play house.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “’S all just fake anyways.” Dean lifted up his arm and rolled his head to the side to look at Sam. “Maybe I don’t get to have good things because good things don’t last, Sammy. Good things just don’t last.”

Sam took another drink of his warm beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I tried. I really did. But now everything is fucked and I have to figure out how to fix it. Sammy's no help because he'll just give Dean the Winchester Pep Talk (Patent Pending) and basically tell him to bottle it all up and deal. Thanks again John for your A+ parenting. Now I can't even get fictional characters to make out without one of them having some sort of emotional crisis. Argh! Alright so Cas may have taken it too far this time, but he didn't realize it and Dean's freaking out and running from his gay thoughts and Sam's just being generally unhelpful. I can work with this. Nothing a good old murder can't solve!
> 
> I feel like I fucked it up but I've been wanting to write the impala scene since I started. Granted, it was supposed to be a lot funnier and Dean was supposed to be a lot gayer, but it works. But this was supposed to be a comedy, damnit!


	12. Playing Pretend

“I’m serious Tabitha! It’s like Inkheart, like they were pulled right out of the book,” insisted Alec.

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” Tabitha argued.

“But what if it’s not? I mean they were perfect, well Castiel didn’t have his trench coat, but I’ll bet it’s at their house.”

Tabitha sat on her friend’s bed and watched Alec pace back and forth across her room, spouting nonsensical theories.

“This kind of thing has happened before, in the books,” said Alec. “They’ve run into crazy fans and they got stuck at a supernatural convention, and they even helped produce their own fan musical at a high school.”

Tabitha smiled fondly and patted the bed next to her. Alec sat down and flopped over into Tabitha’s lap.

“You’re over thinking this. They’re just a pair of really weird gay men living in the suburbs,” said Tabitha.

Alec looked up at Tabitha from her lap and asked, “You’ve been inside their house, right? What was it like?”

Tabitha sighed and thought back to the mailbox incident. “They have a lot of dried up plants just hanging up, and the kitchen sort of looks like an early episode of Breaking Bad.”

“What? Really? Do you think they’re cooking meth or something?”

“No, Cas is an herbal medicine person. He makes tea and organic hand soap or whatever. I think it’s just his work stuff.”

Alec grunted. “What else?”

“They don’t have a lot of other stuff lying around, just some old books and a few plants and wall hangings. I don’t think they have a TV. There wasn’t one in the living room, at least.”

Alec reached up and poked Tabitha’s cheek, “So they have a sparsely furnished home with minimal décor and a ton of strange plants that could possibly be used for summonings and spells?”

“You’re delusional.”

“I’m telling you they’re totally suspicious.”

“What did the doctors give you?”

“Nothing fun. They don’t give you the good stuff for heart attacks. And you’re the one that ran into a mailbox!”

“I didn’t say I ran into a mailbox,” said Tabitha, confused.

“Dean told me last night at dinner.”

Tabitha looked away.

“Ooo! Busted!”

They started at each other until they both broke into a fit of giggles. “Okay say they are from the book. What are they doing here? Trying to set up a tea shop?”

“No, there’s always a reason. They travel across the country hunting things. So there’s got to be something here that’s already suspicious.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Murders, kidnappings, robberies, strange behaviors, just weird stuff.”

“Like pets dying?”

Alec smiled, “See?”

“But mom said that it was just some psycho putting out poisoned chunks of meat.”

“Poison doesn’t give animals heart attacks. And when was the last time you saw any chunks of meat or anything laying around. This is a gated community. If there was somebody, the cops would’ve caught them by now.”

“No, this is your fantasy and I refuse to be dragged into it.”

“Come on! It’s an adventure.”

“Adventures get people killed. I like to stay right here where it’s safe and watch Netflix until my eyes bleed.”

“Gross.” Alec bolted upward, knocking her head into Tabitha’s face. “Fuck!”

“Ow! And Language! What was that for?”

“Sorry. I just had an idea. You know that old lady in the news last week? The one that woke up in a pool of blood?”

Tabitha shivered, “Ew. That was disgusting.”

“Yeah, but it’s definitely weird, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So maybe that’s why they’re here!” Alec jumped up and started pacing again. “They’re after whatever is killing animals and throwing buckets of blood at people at night.”

“It was probably just some sick prank.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Alec asked, exasperated.

“Monsters aren’t real, and Mr. and Mr. Singer are not characters from your book.”

“Prove it.”

“You know what? I will.”

Alec was confused, “You will? How?”

“My grandpa lives in the house across the street from theirs. He sticks his nose into everybody’s business, so he’ll know everything about them.”

“I thought you didn’t like your grandpa?”

“I don’t, and I really don’t want to go to his house. But I’m going to prove you wrong.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on! We can bring a pair of binoculars and some snacks and make it a real stake out. They do it all the time in the books.”

Tabitha shook her head. “Alright, but I don’t want to spend too long at his house. I’ll go find my helmet.”

Alec ran out of the room with a whoop. She sure moved fast for somebody who’s supposed to be recovering from a heart attack.

They packed a backpack full of things they might need. Notebook paper and pencils, a digital camera in case their phones didn’t work, some granola bars, binoculars, and a phone charger. They raced all the way there and tried to sneak to the front door of Tabitha’s grandpa’s house.

“Man, aren’t you hot?” asked Alec.

“Yeah, but I like this shirt.”

“Weirdo. You’re going to get heatstroke wearing long sleeved shirts.”

“Hey, where’s the car?” Tabitha asked, looking back at the Singers’ house.

“What car?”

“The black one that’s always in the driveway.”

Alec grabbed Tabitha’s shoulders. “This is of the utmost importance, Tabitha. What kind of car was it?”

“Uh, it was old and black?”

Alec let go and groaned in frustration. “I forgot you couldn’t tell the difference between a hummer and a Camaro.”

“It’s just a car. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Alec dug out her phone and furiously started typing, “Okay, how about this?” She held up her phone.

Tabitha looked at the pictures of the car closely. “That’s it. That’s the one. How did you know that?”

“It’s a 1967 Chevy impala. There’s a little green army man in the ash tray, some Legos in the vents, and Sam and Dean carved their initials in it when they were little.” Alec was approaching hysterical.

“Alec, I say this as a friend. Get a life.”

“I have one. Most of it just happens to be made up of obsessive fangirling.”

“If you can prove any of those things I might actually believe you.”

“I don’t have to. I know everything that was written about them. I know Dean has an anti-possession tattoo right here,” she pointed to her collarbone. “And a handprint burned into his shoulder.”

Tabitha froze, hand halfway to the doorbell. “Which shoulder?”

“The left one. Well, it’s more on the arm bit, but it’s the shoulder area.”

Tabitha rang the doorbell. “Yeah. On the deltoid.” A hazy image flashed through her mind. Everything was spinning and colorful, but she remembered the tattoo. She saw the burn mark. Alec wasn’t supposed to know any of that.

Mandy opened the door. “Hey. Did your mom want her Tupperware back?”

“Well, I could take it home, but we actually came to see grandpa,” Tabitha said.

Mandy leaned against the door, an eyebrow raised. “You willingly came here. On your own. To see him. I’m not buying it squirt.”

“Well it’s true,” Tabitha said angrily.

“Uh huh. Sure.” She sighed. “Whatever, just don’t make a huge mess for me to clean up.”

“Thanks, Mandy,” Tabitha begrudgingly thanked her.

“Don’t mention it.”

When they came inside Mandy left them and went into the kitchen. They found Tabitha’s grandpa on the couch in front of the TV.

“Hello grandpa,” said Tabitha, almost yelling to get his attention.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked without looking away from the cop show that was playing.

“Well, we kind of wanted to know if you, since you’re always… I mean… uh,” she stumbled through the question.

Alec interrupted her. “We’re playing FBI and we’re spying on the Singers! Since you live right across from them we thought we could interview you!” She dug through the backpack and pulled out a notebook and a pencil.

“The homos across the street?” he laughed. “Man they sure put on a show today.”

Tabitha pursed her lips, “What do you mean?”

He glanced at her, “You’re too young for that crap.”

Tabitha bit back an insult and let Alec take over. Alec was a lot better at lying than she was anyways.

“We’re trying to find out everything about them. Anything weird or unique or unusual? What do they do during the day? Who visits them? Oh! And do they go anywhere at night?”

He grunted in annoyance and turned down the volume on the TV. “Why d’you have to bother me?”

Tabitha would’ve liked to answer that one.

“Because you’re always people watching on your porch,” Alec answered. “You probably notice a lot of things.”

He chuckled, “You got that right. The brunet? He bought a lifetime supply of girl scout cookies.”

Alec and Tabitha exchanged glances. “What for?”

“Eating. What else are you gonna do with a crapton of cookies?”

“Anything else?” Tabitha pushed.

He scratched his stubble, “The angry one likes to garden. He’s always outside working on those scrubby little plants. He almost got into a fistfight with the lady that runs the garden group. Say, why is your mom always over there talking to them now?” he asked Tabitha.

“I didn’t know she knew them,” said Tabitha.

“Isn’t there anything really weird going on? Any secrets or anything?” Alec asked eagerly.

“Well,” he dragged out, “There is one thing.”

Both girls listened with rapt attention.

“The lights in the kitchen are always on. It’s like they never sleep. I can always see someone moving around behind the kitchen curtains at any time of night. And there’s that agent.”

“The FBI agent?” asked Tabitha.

“The one that asked me questions when I was in the hospital?” asked Alec.

Her grandpa leered, “I seen him in there late at night sometimes. I never see him walk in or out of the house, but sometimes he’ll be there when they forget to close the curtains. He’s their dirty little secret.”

Tabitha’s face fell, “Ew, grandpa!” She stood up and dragged Alec to the kitchen.

Mandy was making brownies. “You want any?” she asked.

“Hell yeah!” said Alec.

“Language,” scolded Tabitha.

Mandy fake coughed, “Cough, cough, tightass, cough.”

She just glared at Mandy while Mandy gave Alec a brownie. “You’re lucky I made a batch without the laxatives this time.”

Alec paused mid bite, “This one’s a regular brownie, right?”

Mandy shrugged, “Guess we’ll know in a few hours.”

Alec decided to risk it and gobbled up the brownie. “Hey,” she slapped Tabitha’s shoulder. “Let’s see if we can use the binoculars to spy through the window.”

They camped out in the upstairs bathroom, where they could see the front of the house and into a few rooms upstairs.

“We just have to wait until the car is back, then they’ll both be home again,” Alec was rambling.

Tabitha was using the binoculars to look into the bedroom upstairs. They had left the curtains up today. It was neat. Way too clean, actually. There was a shirt on the floor, but it looked ready for an open house otherwise. She tried some of the other windows. They all had the blinds drawn, but one blind had a bent end. She focused on that, tuning out the sound of Alec droning on. She strained to see what was in the room. It was a mess, whatever it was. Shapes she couldn’t make out.

She nudged Alec, “Look at that window, with the broken shade. I can’t tell what’s inside but I can see something.”

Alec strained to see for herself, but she couldn’t do any better than Tabitha. “I know!” she dug out her phone and held the camera to the binoculars. She set the edge of it all on the windowsill and carefully focused and moved back and forth until she could see the right window on her phone screen.

“Holy shit,” Alec whispered.

“Language,” Tabitha admonished. She looked over Alec’s shoulder and said, “Holy fuck!”

“Holy shit,” Alec whispered again. “Do you think they’re terrorists?”

“Take a picture,” said Tabitha.

“I can’t. I can barely get it to focus. Take if for me.”

“Okay.” Tabitha reached over Alec’s shoulder and started tapping the picture button.

They put down the binoculars and huddled together to look at the photographs. It was a room full of weapons. It was a scattered half mess. It was in piles of knives and guns from what they could see.

“Maybe they’re antique collectors,” suggested Tabitha warily.

“Wait, look at this,” Alec pointed to the markings on the floor of the room, underneath the pile of weapons.

“Is that… are they part of a cult or something?”

“No, it’s a devil’s trap!” Alec started getting excited again. “This proves it! They have a safe room full of monster hunting stuff.”

Tabitha was shaking, “You’re crazy. We need to call the cops. We need to go home and tell somebody about this.”

“No, the cops wouldn’t be able to catch them. The Winchesters always get away.”

“Stop it!” Tabitha yelled. “Stop it,” she said again, quietly. “They have guns. This isn’t a game anymore, Alec. We need to tell someone.”

“Like the FBI guy that stays over a lot?”

Tabitha cringed.

Alec’s eyes widened, “That’s him!” She squealed. “That’s Sam! He’s the undercover agent! He has to be.”

“You’re crazy,” Tabitha murmured.

“I talked to him and I didn’t even know!”

Tabitha snapped to attention. “Why would he need to talk to you? He only talks to people that are involved, right?”

Alec was suddenly much less excited. “They saved my life. Do you think that, maybe, they saved me from something?”

“No, you had a heart attack,” she said firmly. “They can’t be bad people if they saved you, but they’re still really sketchy.”

Alec considered the photograph on her phone for a minute, “I think I know what we can do.”

“No, we are not getting involved in this. This is way too much,” Tabitha decided.

“The library!”

“What?”

“On every mission they go to the library to look for local legends and old newspaper clippings and stuff. I’ll bet Sam will be at the library a lot. We can spy on him and find out what he’s looking for.”

Tabitha buried her face in her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs.

“Tabitha?” Alec asked gently.

“Fine.”

“We can go?”

“It’s just a library. We go there all the time anyways.”

“Yes! We can go tomorrow. It’s almost dinnertime and I have to be back in time to help set the table.”

“Okay.”

They left the house after saying a quick goodbye to Mandy. They got on their bikes and slowly peddled home. Tabitha got off her bike and walked it the rest of the way to her house. This wasn’t happening. She saw the tattoo, the handprint, the scars, everything. She never even told Alec about the stitches, and she still had to go back some time to get them out. She was too scared to try herself. What if Alec was right about all this? What if there was something in the neighborhood? She shuddered and walked faster. Coincidences only stretched so far.

~~

The sun was long gone when Laura’s husband got home that night. She was reading in bed when he stumbled through the front door. She put down her western romance novel and watched him stumble to the bathroom.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice like ice.

“You’re still a bitch,” he retorted, his words slurred.

“I keep telling you, you can’t do shit like this,” she hissed. “I do my part and keep up appearances. You could at least try to be a little more discrete.”

Joe pissed with the door open. He changed into sweatpants and crawled into bed.

“What, no comeback this time? No complaining about how I always have a stick up my ass.”

He grunted, “You already know all that.”

She slammed her book on the bed stand and got up.

“Where’re you going?” he asked groggily. “Come back to bed.”

Laura sighed heavily and turned to face him. “Joe what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at us! We spend every single day nitpicking and screaming at each other. We don’t need to do this.”

Joe sat up, “Laura, what are you saying?”

She let out a heavy sigh, “I’m saying maybe it’s time I threw away my pride and moved back in with my mom or my sister.”

“No! Laura, you hate them. You said you’d rather die than tell your mom she was right,” he reasoned.

“But what if this is what we need?” she insisted. “This isn’t right, Joe. One of these days we’re going to wake up and we’ll both be old and miserable. There’s still a chance for the both of us.”

“No, Laura. I told you to stop trying to live in a fairytale.”

“This isn’t a fairytale! It’s real life! I know that!” She turned away from him, “That’s why I need to leave.”

“What are you talking about?” Joe asked, growing worried.

“This isn’t a fairytale. I have to go out and find somebody that I can at least put up with. I’m tired of waiting. I want somebody that doesn’t sleep around and drink until midnight every other day. Somebody that can at least pretend to love me. I need that.”

“Come on, Laura. Come back to bed. You can think about it in the morning,” he got up and tried to pull her back to bed.

“No!” she screamed. “I have to do this now, before I lose my nerve!” She grabbed a coat and threw it on, shoving clothes in a bag and walking towards the door with determination. She took off her gold wedding band and threw it in Joe’s face before grabbing the car keys and storming out the door.

“Laura, be reasonable. What are you going to do? It’s already past midnight, just wait until morning. Laura, please. Laura. Laura!” He grabbed her arm as she went outside, but she yanked it away and kept walking to the car.

She was resolutely silent, but tears started falling down her face as she unlocked the car. Joe yanked her away from the vehicle; he gripped her arms and screamed into her face, “You can’t do this, Laura! No one else will put up with you!”

Spittle flew from his lips and she turned her head in disgust. “At least I won’t have to put up with you,” she said, her voice flat.

Joe was going to scream into her face when suddenly the world was silent. Both Laura and Joe could feel the blood pumping through their veins, their adrenaline spiking, the hairs rising on the backs of their necks. There was a cackle that sounded like someone had gargled rusty nails, more of a dying sound than real laughter. That’s when they heard it hanging in the air.

_Laura Quinn Gilbert_

Their eyes widened, but neither of them moved. The thundering of hooves and the stench of soot rose into the air. They gagged on the smell of something long dead and turned to face the road. It was all over in a moment. Joe barely even saw the outline of it above him before his world went red, and then black, and then faded. When he was woken up the next morning by the paramedics he couldn’t see. He kept asking for Laura, but no one would tell him anything. He was disoriented. He felt sticky, wet, disgusting. He could smell the metallic tang in the air.

“What happened to Laura?” he kept asking, but no one would tell him. “Where’s Laura? Laura? Come back, Laura!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no Dean or Cas in this one.You'll be seeing a bit more of Tabitha and Alec though.


	13. The Babysitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Well, Serendipity is my stripper name."
> 
> Bonus points for anybody that knows what show this quote is from.

Sam rapped on the doorframe. “Good morning, my name is Eliot Spencer. I’m with the FBI and I just wanted to ask you a few questions about last night,” Sam walked into Joe’s hospital room and started to pull out his badge, before he remembered what the doctors had said.

Joe just stared ahead, eyes milky and colorless.

“Mr. Gilbert?” He tried.

Joe blinked slowly and turned his head in the direction of Sam’s voice.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” he asked again.

“You won’t believe me,” Joe rasped.

Sam chuckled, “Try me.” He sat down in the chair next to Joe’s hospital bed and pulled out a notebook. “Can you describe, in your own words, what happened last night?”

“The devil,” he whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“The devil!” Joe insisted. “He came for me, but Laura was in the way. It should have been me. She still had a life to live.” Joe started trembling violently, tears trickling down his paled cheeks.

“Right, and did you see this, uh, this… devil? Before you lost your sight?”

“Yes, yes. Oh god. Oh, god!” Joe was rocking back and forth now, quickly making the sign of the cross. Forehead to chest and left to right.

“Mr. Gilbert, could you describe what it looked like?”

Joe nodded while stumbling through a whispered prayer. “He was riding in a chariot of fire and bones, and the laughing,” he shuddered. “The laughing,” he mumbled again.

“Wait, a chariot? Are you sure it was a chariot?” Sam leaned forward, excited.

Joe wiped his tears and snot away with the edge of his sleeve. He nodded, “Pulled by a black horse with flaming red eyes. The last, last thing I saw was his flaming cape.” Joe broke down into a fit of sobbing.

Sam couldn’t get much more out of him than that. He was hardly intelligible. The fear had gripped him too tightly. Sam looked back through his notes on his way out. He already had an idea of what this could be.

~~

Dean pulled himself out of a dreamless sleep and into a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over on the bed, willing himself to open his eyes. The soft light pouring in through the blinds made his head throb. He was confused. The last thing he could recall was drinking with Sammy on the impala. Did Sam drive him back? Dean sat up in bed, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat. His hangover reminded him that last night hadn’t been a dream. Why had he been drinking again? He tried thinking back, refusing to open his eyes until his headache went down a little. The car. He was washing his baby when Cas came outside and-

Dean’s eyes flew open. The light made his head throb, but there was Cas. He was sitting in an armchair that hadn’t been there yesterday and reading. Dean squinted at Cas. He rubbed his eyes. Nope, still there. He was definitely back at the house again.

“Cas?” he asked blearily.

Cas didn’t look up from his novel. “Good afternoon, Dean.”

“Yeah, what happened last night?” Dean asked. “I mean I remember getting drunk and talking to Sam, but did he drive me back?”

“No,” Cas was still staring resolutely at his book. “You got drunk, inconvenienced your brother and compromised the mission.” Cas snapped his book shut, “All without explanation.” He finally looked up at Dean, who was still sitting in bed. “Care to explain?”

Dean buried his face in his hands and tried to will away the pounding in his skull. He tried rubbing his temples. “Pass?” he asked.

Cas sighed heavily and got up to fix Dean’s headache. Tapping two fingers to Dean’s head left him blissfully cured of all ailments.

Dean blinked the last of his sleepiness away. “Hang on, didn’t we talk about the whole watching over me when I sleep thing?”

“We did.”

“Then why were you…?” he left the question hanging in the air.

“I was reading.”

“In my bedroom. While I was sleeping.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I decided that if you could compromise the mission, then I could ignore a few rules.”

“Come on, Cas. It was one night.” Dean whined.

“One night that could have cost us our cover,” Cas hissed. “How did you expect to get home? You’re lucky Sam found you. You’re lucky I could bring you back without anyone noticing. You’re lucky no one saw you in your state.”

Dean let out a dry laugh. “Well, Serendipity is my stripper name.”

Castiel sighed, “I understand that hunters use humor and inebriation as a… a coping mechanism, but in the future it would do you well to think about the consequences of your actions.” Cas started walking to the door.

“You’re one to talk,” grumbled Dean.

Castiel stopped. Without turning around he asked, “How so?”

Ah, shit. Dean looked away. “Never mind.”

Cas turned around, “No, please continue. I want to understand what it is you blame me for.”

Shit. Dean scratched the back of his head, “Look, it’s nothing. Just drop it. What do we have planned for today, Cas.”

Cas stared at Dean’s face, since he wouldn’t look Cas in the eye. “There was an incident.”

Dean’s head snapped up.

“Laura and her husband were found face up in a pool of her husband’s blood this morning.”

“Again? That doesn’t make any sense. Why is it leaving them alive?” Dean mused.

“Laura is dead.”

Dean went still.

“Her husband found he was blind upon awaking. He was hysterical when he awoke and had to be sedated.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “No, no, no.” He was supposed to be there. He was supposed to stop this from happening. He spent too much time messing around on this case. He needed to stop this thing before it got to anyone else. “Sammy. Did you tell Sammy?”

Cas nodded, “He interviewed Joe while you were asleep. He said he might have an idea of what it is, but he wants to do a bit more research first. He’ll be at the library for the rest of the day.”

Dean nodded and got up. Cas watched him as Dean walked into the bathroom and shut the door.

Cas heard something faintly buzzing. He tilted his head and teleported downstairs. He found Dean’s phone in his jacket pocket, most likely forgotten there last night. Really what had Dean been thinking? They could have gotten beer and brought it back if he wanted a drink that badly. Dean didn’t suffer any of the symptoms of an alcoholic, so there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for his actions. Sam said he only binged when something was upsetting him, but what could have set him off? Everything was going well, better than most missions. Dean had even been having fun playing pretend. Cas flipped open the phone and read the text.

_Unknown Number_  
_Hey, it’s Kami Olsen. I know this is really short notice but do you think you could watch my kids for a few hours today around 3? Regular sitter canceled and I have to take the littlest munchkin to a doctor’s appointment. I’d understand if you can’t._

Cas thought about it for a minute. Dean liked kids. And they didn’t have anything to do until Sam got back. Maybe this would cheer Dean up. Cas texted back.

_We would be happy to assist you._

Almost immediately Kami texted a reply.

_Thanks so much! Come by at 3 and I’ll give you a rundown._

Cas smiled to himself. Everything was going to work out perfectly.

Unfortunately, Dean didn’t seem to understand his logic.

“What the hell, Cas? What possessed you to say yes? We don’t have time for this!” Dean yanked out the milk and angrily poured it into his lucky charms.

“Actually, we can’t do anything until Sam gets back,” Cas reminded him.

Dean made a face before stuffing his mouth with cereal. Cas left him staring morosely into the marshmallowy depths while he went outside to pick some herbs for babysitting. He just needed something that would keep the children quiet for a few hours, if need be.

Dean decided to bring a bag full of girl scout cookies with them. He had to get rid of these somehow before they left, and he wasn’t allowed to eat them all by himself. They both got ready and climbed into the impala, driving down the street to the Olsen residence. Dean parked on the side of the street so he wouldn’t be blocking either of the cars in the driveway. Dean and Cas maintained an uneasy silence as they approached the house. Being Winchesters it would take another apocalypse to make them talk, or perhaps something else equally as powerful.

Cas rang the doorbell and a flurry of frantic barking started up. They could hear the screaming of small children getting closer and closer to the door. Cas looked at Dean nervously, and Dean smirked. That’s what you get.

The door was pulled open and Kami ushered them inside. “Thank you so much for doing this for me,” she gushed. “The regular sitter had to cancel last minute and my husband has to work today, and I still have to take this little man in for his appointment.” The baby in her arms stared at Cas with wide eyes. Cas stared back.

She rummaged through a pile of papers while two younger boys raced toy cars around her feet. It was a wonder she hadn’t tripped yet. Finding what she was looking for she slapped the papers into Deans hands and kept talking, “That’s a list of emergency contacts if you need them, and the third paper should be a list of Caleb’s allergies.” She handed him a baby bag, “And his epi pen and inhaler are both in there if you need them. He knows what not to eat, so he should be fine. Sadie, bad dog!” She bent down to yank a toy car out the excited golden retriever’s mouth. “Come on, girl. Let’s go outside.”

She locked the dog in the backyard and rushed herself out of the house. “If you need anything else just call me. Tabitha should be at the library, so you can pick her up and take everybody to the park or something. The keys to the minivan are next to the phone. My husband is dropping me off at the hospital, so I might not be back till late. I’ll call you before then. Thanks so much!”

Dean didn’t even get a word in edgewise and before she vanished. Dean looked down at the kids. “Uh, hi?”

The older boy stood up and proudly declared, “I’m Zach!”

Castiel cringed. Hopefully this kid was better than his namesake. “Yeah? My name’s Dean.” Dean crouched down to talk to Zach. “How old are you, buddy?”

“I’m turning eight in three months!”

“Wow, no kidding?” Dean smiled. He pointed at the younger kid, “And this is Caleb?”

Caleb ducked his head and kept playing with his toy train.

Dean grinned and asked him, “And how old are you?”

Caleb put down his train and held up five fingers.

“Awesome.” Dean held out his hand, “Can I get a high five?”

Caleb smiled and slapped Dean’s hand.

Dean chucked and stood back up. He handed the papers to Cas and started going through the bag. He didn’t see any diapers so hopefully Caleb was potty-trained.

Cas was reading through the papers. “How can one child have so many problems?” he wondered aloud.

“What is he allergic to peanuts?” Dean asked and looked at the papers with Cas.

“Yes, and to seafood, gluten, fresh fruit, lactose, bees, dust, pollen, and cats.”

Dean gave a low whistle. “What does he even eat?”

Cas frowned in confusion, “Do humans grow out of these problems?”

Dean shook his head, “Some kids just pulled the short straw in life. Looks like he’s got asthma too, poor kid.”

“This is ridiculous. Allergies do not even serve a functional purpose.”

“Neither do appendixes, but we still have ‘em.”

Cas read over the list one more time at bent down to study Caleb. Caleb shied away from Cas’s scrutiny and latched onto Dean’s leg, burying his face in the rough material.

Cas reached out and touched two fingers to Caleb’s head. There was a slight spark and Cas stood back up, looking satisfied. Dean looked at him quizzically.

“I simply rewrote his DNA so that allergens would not be seen as a threat by his immune system,” Cas said by way of explanation.

“You can’t just…” Dean looked down at the kid and gestured between him and Cas. “I mean his mom is definitely going to notice! You can’t just…”

Cas was wearing a small smile, “Work miracles?”

Dean shot him a bitchface and picked up the kid. “Hey, buddy. How about we not tell mom about this, yeah?” he asked Caleb.

Caleb giggled and nodded his head excitedly.

Dean sighed and handed the baby bag to Cas. “Hey, Zach. What d’ya say we go pick up your sister and hit the park.”

Zach jumped around excitedly, chanting, “Park! Park! Park!”

“All right! Race you to the car!”

Caleb let out a squeal of delight as Dean and Zach took off running. Cas smiled and watched Dean carefully holding onto Caleb and letting Zach win the race. He grabbed the keys off the counter and shoved the now useless papers in the baby bag before following after Dean.

“Unlock the car, Cas! I can still win!” Dean yelled when Cas got outside.

“Nuh uh!” Zach yelled back at Dean. “I already won!”

“Pshhh, I totally beat you,” Dean teased.

Cas made sure to lock the house before he tried to figure out which button on the keychain would unlock the car. It only took two wrong buttons and three accidental car alarms to succeed. Dean took the keys from him after that.

“You can drive after you learn how to work the keys,” Dean told him.

Once everybody was strapped in Dean pulled out of the driveway. Cas watched Dean smile and banter back and forth with Zach and respond to Caleb’s happy babble. It’s a shame Dean didn’t smile like that more often. Cas just hoped that Dean was no longer troubled by whatever had driven him away last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, but a lot should happen in the next chapter. It may take me a while to write just because I'm not sure how to force Dean to work through his problems. Hopefully babysitting should yield some results.


	14. Playground Playdate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I mean like there’s a whole apocalypse that could have been avoided by talking."
> 
> Just saying.

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_  
_Everybody's nerves,_  
_Yes, on everybody's nerves._  
_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves_  
_And this is how it goes..._

Cas was very confused by this ritualistic chanting Dean and Zach were participating in. The repetitive lyrics were endless and seemingly meaningless. How did they know when to end?

Apparently it ended when the car stopped. Dean broke off singing with a laugh, “Alright, let’s hope this is the right one.” He turned to Cas, “I’ll be right back. Stay here with the kids.”

Cas nodded and Dean got out of the car, making sure to take the keys with him.

~~

Alec and Tabitha had walked to the library after school today. Alec’s hunch was right; they found the FBI agent reading The Legend of Sleepy Hollow in the back of the library, surrounded by stacks of horse mythology books.

“Maybe he’s just really into horses?” suggested Tabitha.

“Yeah, I’m sure The Last Unicorn is on his reading list too,” Alec said sarcastically.

“Well at least it’s more believable than a fake FBI agent that stepped out of your homoerotic bible fanfiction!” Tabitha fiercely whispered, ducking behind a shelf and dragging Alec with her.

“I only borrowed your scriptures for reference,” Alec defended herself. “I just wanted to make sure I spelled the names right and everything. Don’t pretend you’re so innocent. You’re the one that edits my homoerotic bible fanfiction.”

Tabitha groaned and buried her face in her hands, leaning against the shelf, “We’re both going to Hell.”

Alec patted her gently on the back, “At least all the cool people will be there.”

Alec peeked through the bookshelves again, but “Agent Spencer” aka Sam fucking Winchester wasn’t there anymore. She slapped Tabitha’s arm, “Where’d he go?”

Tabitha turned around and peered through the bookshelf with her. “He was just there,” Tabitha said, confused.

“You know, spying on a federal agent is pretty suspicious,” a voice startled the both of them. Tabitha nearly jumped a foot in the air.

“We weren’t doing anything!” Alec squeaked.

“Uh huh,” Sam said, disbelief evident.

“We were just looking for books on…” she looked around for answers. A series just above her head caught her eye and a plan sparked to life in her head. She reached up and grabbed the book. “I was just looking for the Supernatural series,” she said, faking innocence.

Sam’s face twitched slightly.

“My friend,” she gestured to the scared stiff Tabitha, “wanted to start reading the series. I’m a big fan. You know, the characters in the books sometimes impersonate FBI agents to save people from monsters.”

Sam leaned against the bookshelf, “So are you a Deanstiel fan or a Samstiel fan?”

Alec chuckled, “Sorry man, I’m a Charlie girl all the way.”

Tabitha looked between the two of them with wide dinner plate eyes.

Sam laughed, “I’ll bet she’d be happy to know that.”

“You, you read those books?” Tabitha asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, yeah it’s my favorite series,” Sam nodded.

Dean walked up behind them and placed a hand on Tabitha and Alec’s shoulders. “Hey girls.” The blood drained from Tabitha’s face and Alec grinned. “Hello again, Agent Spenser. I’m here to pick up Tabitha,” he said to Sam, smiling.

Alec shot Tabitha a disbelieving glare and Tabitha sent a look of stricken terror back. “Hey, where are you guys going? Can I come with? MY parents love you, they won’t mind,” Alec insisted.

“Kidnapping kids again?” Sam teased.

“Hey, they’re not kids. They’re little monsters,” Dean replied.

“So I can come?” Alec asked again to make sure.

Dean sighed and nodded, “Yeah, get your asses in the car. Caleb and Zach are already in there.”

Alec whooped and made a beeline for the car. Tabitha reluctantly followed after he mentioned her brothers. She left muttering, “Language,” under her breath.

Sam and Dean watched the girls run out the door. “So, got stuck with the rabid fan?”

“The only one in the neighborhood apparently,” Dean complained. “She knows who we are, and she’s going to get us into trouble if we aren’t careful.”

“Dean, you worry too much. She’s just a kid. What can she do? Read you poorly written slash fiction?”

“Oh, god. Don’t even say it,” Dean massaged his temples. He could already feel the headache coming on.

Sam tried to hide his smile at Dean’s distress. “She’s a Charlie fan. We should tell her when we see her again.”

“Yeah, that’d make her day,” Dean smiled slightly.

Sam put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Hey, you doing okay?”

Dean looked up, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” Dean insisted and pulled away.

Sam watched him walk away and sighed. He rolled his shoulders and felt the ache at the base of his neck. Maybe it was time for a break.

~~

Dean pushed Caleb and Zach on the swings while Tabitha hovered nearby. Cas sat on the bench and watched. Alec sat on the other side of the bench, pretending not to stare.

“Hey, you’re him, right?” she finally asked.

Cas turned his head to look at her curiously, “Who?”

“You know, Castiel,” she threw her hands up dramatically, “angel of the lord.”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

She grinned, “And he’s really Dean Winchester.” They both watched Dean laughing. He was pushing Zach and Tabitha had taken over Caleb’s swing. “Wow,” she whispered under her breath. “You guys are my heroes. Like, ninety percent of my life is obsessively reading about your lives.” She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck leaning forward to hide her face, “Ah man, that sounded way less creepy in my head.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Cas leaned forward to whisper, “Now what did you want to ask?”

Alec’s face almost split she was smiling so hard. She sat up and tucked her legs underneath her. “Ok, so when humans die their souls go to Heaven or Hell, and when monsters die they go to Purgatory, but what happens when Angels die? Like where do their souls go?”

“I’m afraid when an angel dies their soul burns with their grace. They cease to exist.”

“Oh,” Alec thought about that. “But there could be like an angel heaven or something out there, right? I mean you came back from somewhere.”

Cas looked thoughtful, “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “there is an afterlife of some sort. I am not all knowing.”

“Do you think Gabe is still alive?”

“I watched him die. He is no more,” Cas said simply.

“Yeah, but you watched him die how many times already? He’s probably still out there,” she decided.

“You’re very optimistic. Are you sure those books are very accurate?”

“Hey, you gotta make the best of what you have, right?”

Cas stared out at Dean again. Their eyes made contact and Dean quickly looked away.

“Well that was weird,” Alec noted.

Cas looked at her quizzically.

“He looked away,” she tried to explain. “Eye sex is like your guys’ thing. What happened?”

Cas huffed a frustrated breath. “I have no idea.”

Alec hummed, “I’ll bet it’s him being stupid again. You guys make it a habit. Lemme guess, you haven’t talked?”

Cas stared at her. She looked down, man that was kinda unnerving. “I mean like there’s a whole apocalypse that could have been avoided by talking. It’s a pretty common theme,” she said.

“Perhaps he’ll talk to Sam.”

Alec looked back up, excited again. “Hey, he’s the FBI guy, right?”

Cas nodded and Alec practically jumped up and down in excitement. “Oh! That reminds me! If I give you a picture I drew could you give it to Charlie?”

“I could deliver it to her if you wish,” he offered.

Alec rocked back and forth, trying not to vibrate with excitement. “Ok, so I had a couple theories. What if Chuck was God.”

Cas looked at her, exasperated.

“Yeah, I know, but just listen. So God disappears right? What if he vacated heaven to, I don’t know, live among his creations. Play human. He lets go of the memories, the knowledge, and gets a blank slate. He’s got all this power and, just, knowledge packed away in a mortal body. Well, who do you know that can perfectly predict the future?”

“No one.”

Alec made a buzzer sound, “Bzzzzzzzt, wrong! Chuck? Remember? The guy that wrote the books?”

“No, Chuck is dead. He was a prophet, but he was nowhere near powerful enough,” Cas argued.

“But what if he isn’t dead?” she insisted. “What if he went into hiding, because he started to remember. I mean somebody’s writing a continuation.”

Cas made a face and she relented, “Okay, fine. I know it’s a stretch.”

“He’s out there somewhere, just not here.”

“Yeah,” she pursed her lips. “So the handprint thing on Dean’s shoulder. Is Profound Bond,” she made air quotes, “code for angel married or something?”

Castiel laughed, “Angels don’t get married.”

“They also don’t fall in love,” she countered.

Cas opened his mouth to say something.

“With humanity,” she added. “That’s the quote. With humanity.”

Recognition flickered over Cas’s face, “Metatron said that,” he remembered.

“I mean I think he got it wrong. You gave up everything for Dean. You didn’t want to save the world, you wanted to save him. He was always your end plan.” She looked down again, “You can feel things, like humans. So you can love. You love him, right? I mean you’d kill for him, you’d die for him, hell you’d follow him to the ends of creation and back.”  
They watched Tabitha and Dean attempting to push four different kids on the swings at once. A soft smile spread across both their faces.

“I already have,” Cas answered.

“Yeah, I think that counts as love,” Alec smiled. “It doesn’t really matter what kind of love, as long as you have each other.”

~~

Tabitha was pushing two kids that had wanted to play with her brothers on the swings. It felt like her nerves were frantically spasming. She kept glancing back at Dean and her brothers every few seconds. That man had a room full of weapons at his house, and her mom just had to be determined to make these two see the light. Why couldn’t she have gone after Mrs. Woodcock instead? The woman was irritating but at least she wouldn’t think of owning a gun, much less a room full of shotguns and long carving knives. She glanced back at Dean again. He caught her looking this time and she snapped her gaze away.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, you guys are Mormon, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, clipped.

“And your mom is cool with the whole gay thing? I thought it was supposed to be a sin.”

“She’s sort of tolerant,” Tabitha shrugged. “Love the sinner, hate the sin.”

“So she wants to convert us and make us change our sinful ways,” he joked. Tabitha wasn’t laughing, so his smile fell. “Seriously? I’m starting to see why Mormons have a bad reputation.”

“It’s not… I mean we aren’t bad. There’s just a few things that we do that don’t really make sense is all,” she tried to defend her mom. “It’s an organized religion. Organized religions feed on fear, ignorance and obedience. It’s a system designed to breed more and more mindless followers. The plan is to out populate everybody else.”

Dean shot her look and let out an awkward chuckle. “You stay up at night coming up with that stuff?”

“Yeah, well sixteen years of contradictions really make you think.”

Caleb, Zach and the other two kids all scrambled off the swings and ran off to try out the slides.

Tabitha crossed her arms and faced forward, away from Dean. They stood side by side in silence.

“Do you regret choosing a man?” she asked quietly.

Dean looked down at her, a slight frown on his face. “Hey,” he walked over and crouched down in front of her gently grabbing her arms, “You don’t get to choose who you fall in love with. Sometimes life’s a bitch, yeah, but the one nice thing is that you get to make your own family. You get to hold onto the people that matter.”

“I just want to do the right thing,” she whispered.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me,” he waited until she looked into his face. “Trust me you’re not going to Hell. You gotta do some pretty fucked up shit to get in there. Just keep wantin’ to do the right thing. That’s all you need.”

“How did you know that you loved him?” she asked, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “How did you know he wasn’t just your best friend?”

Dean grimaced and looked down, searching the ground for inspiration. “When he pulled me out of Hell,” he decided. Dean looked back up at her. “Me and Cas, we’ve been through some shit together, and one day I guess I just woke up and realized life’s too short to stand back and… and have faith.”

Tabitha’s face twisted in confusion.

“Sometimes you have to grab life by the balls- er, the horns and make your own happiness, okay?”

Tabitha nodded, blinking back tears.

“You feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she breathed and nodded.

Dean stood back up, brushing his pants off at the knees. Tabitha leaned in close, “I’ve got pictures of that room full of guns and knives.”

Dean froze, still bent over, head at Tabitha’s height.

“Stay the fuck away from my family and I stay away from yours.” She walked off to join her brothers, still hugging herself tightly.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Well that went from zero to holy fuck in two seconds. He straightened up and looked over at Cas, who was sitting on the bench with the other kid, Alec. They were animatedly arguing. Cas looked incredibly frustrated about something and Alec just looked excited.

He put his hands on his hips and sighed. They needed to gank this thing and run. If a kid could get her hands on that kind of evidence, then they weren’t safe here. He pulled out his cell and called Sam.

“Hello?” Sam answered.

Dean mimicked Sam angrily, “She’s just a kid. You worry too much, my ass.”

~~

Tabitha made her way over to the bench Alec and Cas were sitting at. “Where’s Caleb’s inhaler?” she asked. “He’s going to need it soon.”

“He doesn’t need it anymore,” Cas said.

Tabitha gave him a blank stare. “Where’s his inhaler?” she asked again.

“I rewrote his DNA so that previous allergens no longer affect him. His asthma was caused by his allergy to dust and plant matter, which are now gone.”

“Get out!” Alec exclaimed. “You can do that?”

“I found his allergies to be unnecessary so I removed them.”

Tabitha looked between the two of them and asked again, “Inhaler. Where is it?”

Alec smiled and jumped up, latching onto Tabitha’s arm, “No, you don’t get it. Castiel is an angel! He cured Caleb!”

Tabitha was done with this shit. She grabbed Alec’s hand and started pulling her away so she could grab her brothers and make a break for it. “That’s it. We’re done here.”

Alec tried to pull away, “Hang on! Look, I know it sounds crazy, but just gimme a chance, okay? Like ten seconds.”

Tabitha stopped walking and sighed. She turned around. “Five seconds.”

Alec flailed, “Oh, okay, wait. Um, Cas can you show her your wings?”

“Viewing my angelic form would-“

Alec interrupted, “Yeah, yeah. I mean like a shadow, or something. All shiny and bright and holy or whatever? Just to prove a point.”

Cas nodded and touched two fingers to Tabitha’s head. For a blinding instant the viel was pulled from her eyes. A huge set of wings made of light and nothing at all, rippling with power, seared into her eyes. Tears started flowing from her eyes, and she dropped to her knees, staring at the after image of Castiel’s wings. She vaguely heard Alec freaking out about something in the background.

“Dude, I said prove a point, not kill her! Is she okay?”

Everything faded into a gentle black buzz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being way longer than I had planned, so I had to split it. Warning for the next chapter. It will be sad and awful. I'm so sorry. Also poor Tabitha. Kid has to put up with a lot.


	15. The Pizza Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Not for nothing, but the last person that looked at me like that…”
> 
> I like Alec. I'm very glad I didn't kill her off earlier.

When Tabitha’s eyes fluttered open the first thing on her mind was her brother. “Caleb?” she asked blearily. She tried to get up, but Alec put her hand on Tabitha’s head and gently pushed Tabitha back down into her lap.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“Where’s Caleb?” she asked again.

“He’s fine. Dean went and got everybody ice cream, and he’s having the time of his life.”

Tabitha shot up, “Caleb’s lactose intolerant!”

“Not anymore. Angel of the lord, remember?”

The image of celestial wings seared back through her mind. She flopped back down into Alec’s lap. “That really happened.”

“I can’t believe you doubted me.”

“Angels don’t have wings,” she mumbled.

Alec was confused for a minute before she rememberd the bits and pieces she had learned about Mormon beliefs. “In Supernatural angels and demons are different creatures from humans. And angels have wings.”

“Mom would be so mad,” Tabitha said. “The Catholics were right.”

Alec giggled and Tabitha soon joined her. Tabitha got her breathing under control again, “So what now?”

Alec leaned back in the bench and closed her eyes, feeling the warm sunlight dance over her skin. “I suppose we’ll have to convert. How does Pastafarianism sound?”

They broke into another fit of giggles. “I don’t want to be Catholic. The giant cathedrals scare me,” Tabitha admitted.

“The cathedrals scare you?” Alec asked, skeptically.

“Yeah, they’re big and open, and they have all this space for stuff to grow and rats and birds to live. Completely unsanitary.”

“Well, atheism is out of the picture,” Alec said.

“Darn. Satanism is pretty appealing,” Tabitha sighed.

“Let’s start our own church.”

“Nah, the last teenager that spoke to an angel made Mormonism.”

Tabitha made a face. “How about we decide later and get ice cream now. You good to walk?”

“I think so.” They both sat up and Alec stood. Tabitha reached out to Alec and made grabby hand motions. “Help me up?”

“You are a child,” Alec said, exasperated, but she still grabbed Tabitha’s hands and pulled her up.

“I hope they have warhead popsicles,” Alec mussed aloud.

“Weirdo. Ice cream is supposed to be sweet.”

“You never get anything besides orange cream, so you don’t get to judge.”

They made their way over to the ice cream shop next to the park where Dean, Caleb, Zach and Cas were eating ice cream outside on the picnic tables. Caleb had his face buried in what looked like a giant birthday cake cone. Tabitha’s heart skipped a beat, but she reminded herself that it was okay. He didn’t have allergies anymore. Because an angel cured him. Castiel, her weird gay neighbor with a room full of weaponry was a fucking all mighty angel and he thought it was a good use of his time to sit here and eat ice cream with her little brothers.

Dean saw her and got up to buy them ice cream. “Hey, kid. How you doing?”

She wasn’t sure whether to beg forgiveness or glare, so she settled for nodding and leaving her face a careful blank. “Is he an angel too?” she whispered to Alec.

Alec was digging into her lemon sorbet. “Nah, man. I mean he was a demon once, but he’s all good now.”

Tabitha looked at her quizzically.

Alec gestured at her with her spoon. “Dude, read the books.”

Right. She got her orange cream bar and hesitantly sat down next to Castiel. She took a deep breath and swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry,” she started. “For doubting you and for being rude and for not trusting you and for not praying every night and for-“

Castiel raised his hand and her mouth snapped shut. “Apology accepted. I’m sure you have questions.”

Tabitha nodded and asked, “So which church is the true church?”

Cas took a bite of something vibrantly blue and said, “There isn’t really one. Religion is humanity’s coping mechanism. Just keep striving to be a good person like you have. That’s all you need to do.”

“That’s it?” she asked in disbelief. “No puritan ultimatum? Just be good?”

Castiel shrugged, “Basically.”

“So all that stuff about, you know, being gay?”

“I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation.”

“Okay, and what about gender? Like, trans, nonbinary and all those.”

Castiel considered his ice cream, “There are many things I do not understand about humans. Gender is one of them. Angels do not experience gender like you.”

Tabitha furrowed her brows and licked her ice cream bar. “But you look like a human. Why do you look like a human?”

“Angels and demons have no physical manifestation, well none that can be easily understood by the human mind. Angels cannot reveal their true form to humans as it will burn them up from their soul out.”

Tabitha looked at him with wide eyes, “That’s absolutely terrifying.”

“You have nothing to fear. I use a vessel for this purpose.”

“So do you like make bodies out of clay or something?” she asked.

“Angels ask permission of humans with compatible vessels so that we can walk among the humans.”

Tabitha slowly swallowed the chunk of ice cream she had bitten off and asked, “So who’s in there with you?”

“No one. Jimmy Novak passed away the last time this vessel was destroyed.”

“So you’re walking around in a dead man’s corpse?”

“I suppose.”

“That’s creepy.”

“May I ask you a question?” Cas asked.

Tabitha was surprised, “Yes, anything.”

“Would you find it… creepy if I were to watch over you as you sleep?”

She thought about it, “No, I don’t think so. I mean you’re an angel. It’s almost like Santa, but way more reassuring.”

The corners of Cas’s mouth twitched up slightly. “I will remember that.”

Tabitha stretched her legs and ate part of her orange creamsicle. “Sooo, do angels and humans usually fall in love, get married, and end up in the suburbs?”

Cas shook his head, “Usually angels stay far away from interacting with humans. I am unusual in that regard.”

Alec had finished her ice cream and sat down next to Tabitha.

“Why are you here then? Don’t you have some sort of Heavenly mission to fulfill? Why waste your time sitting here eating ice cream and talking to me?”

Cas smiled, “It’s a long story.”

“Long enough to fill twenty-six books,” Alec piped up.

Caleb was standing behind Cas, tugging on his sleeve.

Cas turned around and asked, “Yes?”

Caleb just opened his mouth wide like a baby bird. Alec giggled at Cas’s confusion. “He wants a bite of your ice cream,” she whispered.

Cas made a noise of understanding and spooned some of the blue goop into Caleb’s mouth. Caleb let out an exaggerated, “Mmmmmm.” He climbed up on top of the bench and plopped down in Cas’s lap. Cas stilled, unsure what to do. Caleb opened his mouth again so Cas scooped in more ice cream.

Tabitha laughed. “He’s going to get sick eating that much, allergies or not.”

Dean finished wiping off Zach’s sticky hands and threw away the napkins. Zach reached up and grabbed his hand as they walked back to the table. An unconscious smile spread across Dean’s face as he watched Cas feeding a sticky Caleb his bubble gum ice cream. Cas looked up at Dean and smiled back. The smile dropped from Dean’s face and he looked away. He sat down at the far end of the picnic table, as far away from Cas as he could get.

He was interrupted from his thoughts when Alec reached across the table and poked his arm. He looked up questioningly.

“Okay, so I’ve got a lot of questions, but they’re not all rated G,” she whispered seriously.

Tabitha nudged her with her elbow. “Seriously?”

Dean looked at her apprehensively, “About what exactly?”

“You know, the whole Winchester thing,” she said conspiratorially.

Dean glared at Cas across the table. Cas probably tattled. He was going to pay for that. Dean sighed and stood up anyways. Alec followed him to the swings like an excited puppy. Tabitha warily watched them go, but stayed where she was.

They sat down on the swings and Dean said, “Alright, kid. Shoot.”

“Do you guys really get away with impersonating FBI agents all the time? I mean Sam’s hair is way out of regulation,” she started. “Also can the impala teleport itself because you guys leave it out in the open all the time and it barely ever gets beaten up or stolen. And what happened to the colt, because it hasn’t been mentioned in ages, and –“

Dean cut her off, “Woah, too many questions. Okay, as far as the agent thing goes, you’d be surprised how much you can get away with when people are scared. No, the impala can’t teleport. Cas usually keeps it safe for me. And the colt is in my bag with the other guns. It’s just been easier to use angel blades, since I don’t have to reload those.”

“Does Cas have some sort of interdimensional cosmic space pocket he keeps his angel blade in? Because he pulls it out of the air like bippity boppity boo, right?”

Dean shook his head, “I dunno. You’d have to ask Cas about that one.”

“Where’s Cas’s trenchcoat?”

“Back at the house, in the coat closet.”

“Did you pick out his wardrobe or…?”

“I know, he looks like Easter puked on a Harvard professor. He picked his own clothes this time. Next time Sammy’s going with him.”

“Are you guys like angel married?”

Dean’s head whipped around, “What?”

“Well, you know. You’ve got his mark on your arm and he broke ranks for you. I just kind of figured since all the other angels kept referencing your relationship as love, or boyfriends.” She tried to drop her voice, “You’re mistaking me for the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat that’s in love with you.” She raised her pitch, “Go ask him, he was your boyfriend first.” Her voice dropped again as far as she could go, “Dean and I do share a more profound bond.”

“That, that is completely out of context,” Dean defended.

“Cas get out of my ass!” she mocked. “Blow me, Cas.” Dean’s face was getting more and more heated. “Not for nothing, but the last person that looked at me like that…”

Dean looked away, shaking his head.

“I got laid,” Alec said and broke into a fit of giggles.  
Dean stood up. “That’s enough. I’m done playing twenty questions.” Dean started to walk back to the table but Tabitha stifled her giggles.

“Hey, hey wait! I’ll stop I promise. I still wanted to ask a bunch of questions,” Alec pleaded.

“Dean stopped and sighed. Fine, but no more subtext all right?”

“Can do.”

Dean didn’t sit back down. But he didn’t leave either.

“So how come you didn’t kill Becky, the crazy stalker fan that kidnapped and attempted to rape Sam,” Alec asked.

Dean shuffled in place and stuck his hands in his pockets. “She wasn’t doing any harm, just got tricked by a witch.”

Alec made a face, “Dude, she kidnapped him and tied him to her bed. If a demon did that they’d be bleeding out on the floor before you could say bag of dicks.”

“She was just a human. She didn’t mean any harm,” he tried to explain.

“Dude, haven’t you learned by now? Humans are the worst kind of monster,” she scolded him.

“What’s done is done. I don’t ever plan on running into her again. Next question.”

“Soooo, are you and Cas really married?” Alec watched him expectantly.

“Hell no! We just needed a cover for this case.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Not even angel married?” she asked just to be sure.

“We are not married,” Dean said very clearly.

“Darn. Okay so what’s the plan for getting Adam out of the cage?”

“Who?” Dean asked, confused.

Alec blinked, “You really did forget. Well, fuck. Kid’s never getting out is he? So much for family.”

Ah, shit. He forgot about Adam again. “I want to get him out! I do. But we just can’t. Not without risking Lucifer escaping too.”

“Which is why you pestered Death into releasing Sam, but for Adam you just kinda gave up. Right?”

“I didn’t give up! I just told you there’s nothing we can do right now.”

“Defensive much?”

Dean grunted, “Just how it is.”

“Okay, obligatory incredibly invasive question.”

“Oh, god.”

“Would you say that you enjoy being sexually submissive?”

“We’re done here.” Dean walked away.

“Hey, simple yes or no! I could have asked a lot worse! I just figured with the whole Ronda Hurley thing and-”

Dean ignored her and walked back to the benches. It was fucking weird that a preteen knew more about his sex life than the people he actually had sex with.

~~

On the way back to the Olsen’s house Dean dropped off Alec at her own house. Kami still hadn’t called by the time they got everyone back inside the house, so Dean decided to order pizza. “Who wants what?” he asked the kids.

“I’ll have a pineapple,” said Tabitha.

“How about you, little man?” Dean asked Zach.

“Cheese! And Caleb can’t have pizza.”

“Well, he can now,” Dean said. He turned to Cas, “Hey can you fly out and get us a meat lovers, a Hawaiian and a two cheese?”

“I will return shortly,” Cas said and vanished with a faint flutter.

Tabitha was staring, open mouthed at the empty space Cas had left behind. “Holy mother of hot fudge Sundays,” she whispered reverantly.

They sat down at the dining table and Cas reappeared with a stack of pizza boxes a moment later. The kids cheered and the boxes were all opened up and placed on the table. Dean swallowed a bite of meat lovers and asked Tabitha, “How you holding up?”

Tabitha considered her pizza. “An angel just got me take out.”

“So, is that a good thing or what?” he asked.

“I think it’s good. I mean God is real, but everything else I’ve been told is a lie. Did you know that the Virgin Mary was raped and the angel Gabriel basically helped her trick her way into getting married so that she wouldn’t be disowned? Jesus wasn’t even that important. It was all Mary. She was the savior. She bled and died for humanity after losing everyone she cared for. And god isn’t even a man. Like, angels don’t have genders.” Her voice was rising to a slightly panicked pitch.

“Hey, take a deep breath. Look at me, alright. Breath in, and out.”

Dean and Tabitha took several slow, deep breaths together.

“You good?” he asked.’’

She nodded and took a bite of pizza.

~~

They were all half asleep, pilled on the couch, while watching a Disney movie by the time Kami and her husband got back. Dean and Cas had already gotten rid of any evidence that they fed the kids pizza. She thanked them profusely for coming last minute, and they drove off.

Kami shooed her kids upstairs, telling them to get ready for bed. “Caleb, honey. Can you let the dog in?” she asked Caleb, who was still waiting his turn for the bathroom downstairs. He nodded and she went upstairs to put the youngest Olsen to bed.

Caleb opened the back door to the fenced in yard and tried calling Sadie’s name, but she didn’t come running like usual. He stepped outside and saw the gate was open. He tried yelling her name again, and he heard an echoing bark. She’d come back if he called enough, so he followed the sound out the back yard and around to the front of the house.

It was late. The sun was long gone and the streets were deserted. The dark of night was broken only by a few yellow street lamps and glowing windows. He tried calling for Sadie again, but instead of barking he heard a thin reedy whisper floating through the air, as clear as crystal.

_Caleb Conrad Olsen_

He looked around in confusion, but he couldn’t see anyone. “Hello?” he asked, getting scared. Suddenly he heard a rumble and before him a carriage of bones and twisted skins burned with hellfire and drawn by a flaming steed black as night appeared before him. He fell backwards in surprise. He heard a cackle, like nails tearing at his eardrums. He clasped his hands over his ears and the man in the rider’s seat held out his arm. Caleb stared in horror at the gnarled, twisted grin shoved in his face and seized up.

The carriage and the man were gone in an instant, but Caleb found he couldn’t breathe. Pain blossomed in his chest, and his throat closed up tight. He tried to scream for help, but found he couldn’t even blink. The last thing he saw was that ugly, scarred face grinning unnaturally wide at his fear.

“Caleb?” Tabitha came downstairs. “Caleb, time for bed.” She saw the backdoor was still open and Sadie was inside, but Caleb wasn’t. She walked outside and looked around. That’s odd, the gate was open. She walked around the side of the house and instantly her eyes darted to the still body of her brother on the grass. She took off running. Her mind was blank. She reached down and grabbed Caleb. “Caleb?” she asked quietly. He didn’t respond, but his eyes were open. “Caleb,” she yelled louder. She shook his still body. She screamed this time, the sound ripping through the night. Several lights flicked on down the street and her mother came running outside. She just kept holding onto her brother and screaming his name over and over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I feel like a bag of dicks. Also I'll bet you think you know what the monster is now. Well you're all wrong. All of you. Sort of...


	16. Paying a Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas tilted his head in confusion, “Yes, he has wielded my blade on many an occasion. He is quite adept at using it.”
> 
> I had to make at least one dick joke.

Tabitha blearily opened her eyes. She was disoriented. Her thoughts were fuzzy. She breathed in the scent of her own room and gripped her blanket. Her own room. She looked around in the dark. 

“We’ll have to sedate her.”

Tabitha closed her eyes and let the images flood back.

“It’s already too late.”

“An angel of the lord.”

“I’ll call it.”

“We’re sorry ma’am.”

Tabitha trembled. A dream. It had all been an awful dream. She tossed aside her blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stared down at her socks and jeans where she had been expecting pajamas. She felt the snug bra straps under her shirt and she ran, hopping she was wrong. Her brothers’ room was silent. It was dark but she could see the bunkbed. There were no lumps under the blue and green comforters. No quiet rise and fall of sleeping boys.

She started breathing erratically. She made her way to her parents’ room. Silently she peered around the doorframe. She could just make out her mom and dad curled around Zach, all of them sleeping peacefully.

She tiptoed downstairs and slipped on her shoes. Sadie began to whine when she opened the back door, but Tabitha shushed her and shut the door behind her. She didn’t even think. She just walked. She climbed over fences and ignored the scratches she got from her carelessness. She found herself in front of a familiar door in a familiar backyard. She brought her hand up and knocked quietly on the sliding glass door.

Castiel was sitting in the chair he had put in the bedroom, reading. Dean had made a fuss about him staying there all night, but Cas had said that he would leave when Dean decided to explain his actions. He could be so stubborn sometimes. It was amazing what he would do to keep his own mouth shut. 

Cas heard the faint knocking downstairs and immediately vanished, reappearing in front of the glass door. Tabitha didn’t even flinch when he appeared. Her expression was almost glassy when he let her in. She was covered in scrapes and bumps, not that she seemed to notice the blood smeared on her cheek.

Castiel touched her forehead and Tabitha shook her sleeve. The heavy string Cas had used to sew her wound shut tumbled out. She stared at it for some time before Cas heard her speak.

“The thing, it got Caleb. But you can heal him, right?” when she looked up at Cas hopefully, tears were streaming down her cheeks. “You’re an angel so you can bring him back to life right?”

Cas was uncomfortable. This was really more Dean’s area of expertise. “Tabitha, I’m sorry,” he tried to say.

“What do I need to do?” she interrupted. “I can pray every night! I can go on a pilgrimage to Africa! I can sell all of my worldly possessions and live in a commune in Russia!” She latched onto Cas’s arm, “I can sacrifice a fucking cow, just, please! What do I need to do?”

Cas looked down at her sadly. “I can’t do anything to help you. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Tabitha shook her head and her vision blurred. “NO! You’re a fucking angel! Bringing back the dead should be easy! What’s different about Caleb! Why won’t you help him?” Her knuckles turned white.

“This creature is powerful,” he tried.

“Stronger than an angel?” she spat.

“Strong enough to burn a soul.”

She stared at him blankly.

Cas sighed and carefully released his arm. “When your brother was killed the creature burned away his soul. Even if I were to heal his body and bring him back to life, the body would be empty.”

Tabitha’s arms swung uselessly at her sides. She chuckled almost hysterically, “Like a glove without a hand.” She started to shake, tears flowing faster. “So you can’t do anything,” she stated flatly.

Cas shook his head, “No, I’m sorry.”

Tabitha whipped around and punched the glass door. It shattered into a million pieces and rained down around her feet. She didn’t even feel the blood oozing in between her knuckles, or the shards of glass stuck in her arm. “You’re fucking useless!” she screamed, her back still to Cas. “You have all this power and you can’t even save one kid!”

The sound of shattering glass had woken Dean and he came downstairs, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Cas, what’s going on?” he asked behind a yawn.

“And you!” Tabitha whipped around and pointed an accusing and bloodied finger at Dean. “You’re the reason any of this happened! You think you’re some sort of hero, don’t you?” 

Dean stood at the bottom of the stairs, wide eyed.

“You don’t save people! You just try and clean up the mess, because it makes you feel good about yourself,” she snarled. “You’re the reason Caleb is dead!” she screeched and tried to launch herself at Dean. 

Castiel grabbed her and she slumped in his arms, unconscious. Dean was gripping the railing, shaking. He couldn’t stop looking at her bloody knuckles while her words pounded inside his skull. “You’re the reason Caleb is dead!”

He didn’t see Cas fix the window or magic the glass out of Tabitha’s hand and arm. He didn’t see Cas teleport Tabitha back to her own bed. He didn’t see Cas asking if he was alright. He jumped when Cas put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dean, are you alright?” he asked again, concern evident.

Dean shook his hand off and turned around to walk back upstairs. Cas followed him up, so Dean shut the door in his face. He turned around and Cas was sitting in that damn chair again.

“Cas, get out,” he growled.

Cas didn’t move. He didn’t press for answers either, so Dean left him there and went into the bathroom. He got into the shower and turned the water on high. He covered his head and sunk to the floor, wet clothes clinging to his frame as scalding water poured down on him. It burned and he felt the telltale prickling sensation in his eyes, but he swallowed it down. A child died tonight, and it was all his fault. 

Dean felt himself yanked out of the shower and onto the cool tile of the bathroom floor. He tried to struggle away from his attacker, but he was pinned down. He finally recognized Cas and went limp. “Cas, get out,” he pleaded quietly. He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, feeling his steaming skin knitting itself back together and his soggy clothes drying under Cas’s hands.

He didn’t struggle this time when Cas helped him up and brought him back to bed. “It’s all my fault,” he said again.

“It’s not your fault,” Cas said, sitting down on the bed beside him. “You couldn’t have known it would attack him.”

Dean covered his face, “None of this would have happened if I had been working on the case instead of messing around and…” he trailed off.

Cas tried to press, “Dean, why did you run away the other day?”

Dean licked his lips and croaked, “Because I was happy.”

Cas was confused, but no matter what he did, Dean wouldn’t say another word. He finally relented when Dean fell asleep. Cas summoned his book from where it was sitting by the chair and kept reading. 

The next morning Dean didn’t say anything about waking up snuggled against Cas’s thigh. He also didn’t mention the shower, or Tabitha. He just got ready and Called Sam. They were going to meet for lunch.

~~

They drove to a dinner just out of town, far enough that no one would recognize them. Sam got a chef salad and rolled his eyes when Dean got a double bacon cheeseburger.

“Shut up. I haven’t had real food in forever,” Dean defended himself.

“Okay,” Sam laughed.

“So what’ve you got?” Dean asked after the waiter set down their glasses.

Sam pulled a few pages out of his case and handed them to Dean. “I’m pretty sure that it’s one of these.”

Dean looked at the papers and raised an eyebrow, “The headless horseman? What, really? I thought he was just like the boogeyman.”

“Dullahan,” Sam corrected.

“Hm?”

“The Dullahan. It’s like the headless horseman’s predecessor.”

“So what’s the difference?” Dean asked.

They both fell silent as their food arrived. Dean dug into the burger with a moan.

“The difference is one lives in Ireland.”

Dean wiped his mouth and asked, “Hell of a long way off. You sure it’s not the other one?”

“No, see,” Sam leaned forward, “the legend of sleepy hollow says that the headless horseman was a Hessian soldier during the Revolutionary War. He died while stationed in New York when a cannon ball took his head clean off. Our horseman has a cape and a horse with a head. He doesn’t dress like a soldier.”

“What is a Hessian soldier?” Cas asked.

“Ah, they were German troops hired by the British to fight the rebelling colonies during the Revolutionary War,” Sam explained.

Cas nodded, still slightly confused.

“Man, they had Germans doing their dirty work?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I guess it was easier than sending their own guys,” Sam said. 

“Okay,” Dean swallowed, “So why did our guy hop the pond?”

Sam shook his head, “Well, best guess, he followed somebody over.”

“Cool, so all we gotta do is find whoever took a trip to England lately,” Dean said. 

“Ireland, Dean.”

“Whatever.”

“Right. I thought we could go around and ask everybody that’s had contact with it lately if they’ve been on a trip.”

Dean chuckled, “And what are you gonna say, Mr. FBI?”

Sam stood up, having finished his salad, “There just so happens to be an alien strain of dandelion, native to Ireland, that’s been cropping up lately. And I am the poor bastard in charge of finding out who brought it over.”

Dean laughed and paid the bill. He got a piece of pie to go before they left. He and Cas stopped by the store on the way home. When they got back Tabitha and Alec were sitting in front of the door, and Dean really considered just driving past the house.

Dean sighed and grabbed the grocery bags out of the car. “Look, Cas. I’ve gotta make a pie to bribe a sweet old lady, so I need you to distract the rugrats.”

Dean tried ignoring the girls while opening the door. Well, he tried ignoring Alec’s rambling. Tabitha just stood in stony silence. It was really unnerving. He pushed by them and walked inside. He sighed in defeat when Cas opened the door and let them in behind him.

Alec walked in and looked around. “Holy crap! Which one of you mugged a girl scout?” she asked, looking into the living room.

“Dean bought them from a girl scout while I was out,” Cas said.

She flopped down on the couch and popped open a box of cookies. “So, what are we hunting?” she asked.

Dean and Cas both stopped to look at her.

Dean put down the eggs he was pulling out of a bag and put his hands on the counter. “Me and Cas are going to gank this sonofabitch and you two are going to go home and forget all about this little tryst.”

“Or you could tell me what I need to murder to keep the rest of my family safe,” Tabitha stared him down.

Dean shook his head and went back to baking. 

Cas sat down next to Alec and motioned Tabitha over. She stood next to the arm of the couch, but didn’t sit. “The creature is called a Dullahan,” he began.

“Cas!” Dean barked.

“Even if you don’t want to involve yourself I can at least teach them how to defend themselves,” Cas said evenly.

Dean grunted and went back to his pie.

“The Dullahan is said to fear even the smallest amount of gold. Carrying some sort of gold jewelry or trinket should be enough to ward him away.”

“That’s it?” Alec asked. “It doesn’t like gold? How are you going to kill, I mean, gank it?”

“There is little information on actually engaging the creature in combat, but I believe that my angel blade should be enough to best him.”

Alec giggled, “Hey Cas, has Dean ever held your ‘angel blade?’”

Cas tilted his head in confusion, “Yes, he has wielded my blade on many an occasion. He is quite adept at using it.”

Alec fell into a fit of giggles, and Tabitha smacked the backside of her head.

Dean put down the mixing spoon. “That’s it. Everybody twelve and under get out.”

“Sorry, buddy. Still tall enough to ride,” Alec said.

Dean was jerking the spoon back and forth in the bowl now.

“Oh, that reminds me.” Alec pulled out a huge book labeled Supernatural Mythology. “So how many of these things are-”

When she opened the book Cas disappeared.

“What the fuck did you do?” Dean asked, exasperated.

“Well I guess that means the Enochian is right, then,” Alec said.

“Put that thing away,” Dean demanded and walked to the door. When he opened it Cas was standing on the other side.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean sighed, “Hiya, Cas.”

“Auerworld Palace was nice,” he said.

“Where did you go?” asked Alec.

Cas stepped inside after she put the book away, “Auerworld Palace. It’s in Germany.”

Alec smiled, “Sweet.”

Dean went back to his pie when Tabitha demanded Cas teach them some hand to hand combat. He left them sparring in the backyard with daggers. They’d probably be fine. They had an angel. He was just going to go have an elderly lesbian judge his pie while his fake husband stayed home and sparred with their teenage neighbors. Ah, who was he kidding? This was a recipe for disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to the end. But first we've gotta talk about feelings.


	17. Heart to Heart

Dean knocked on Betty’s door and waited. He hoped she was in today because the sound of frenzied barking was really getting annoying. Luckily Betty soon opened the door for him.

“Dean, what a nice surprise,” she smiled genuinely.

“Sorry I didn’t call first. I finally tried out that pie recipe you gave me, and I wanted your opinion,” Dean explained, holding out the foil wrapped pie.

“Oh, that’s quite alright. I always enjoy company, and you saved Harold here from having to take his bath.” She looked down at Harold who was panting happily, tongue lolling out. “Tell the nice man thank you, Harold,” she scolded the dog.

Dean was surprised when the dog made some sort of whining noise and gently pawed at his jeans. 

Betty grinned smugly, “It only took me half a year to teach him that one. He’s got the attention span of a caffeinated squirrel.”

Dean laughed and carried the pie in. Betty ushered him into the kitchen and dug out some beautiful ceramic plates that Dean felt nervous just holding, and cut into the pie. Dean was pretty happy with how the pecan pie came out. It wasn’t nearly as good as Betty’s, but it must’ve taken a deal with a demon to make pies that good.

“Not too shabby,” Betty decided.

“I passed?” Dean asked with a smile.

“You still have a ways to go, but you do have potential.”

Dean rinsed off the plates and silverware in the sink once they were done and Betty asked Dean, “Have you had lunch yet?”

“No, I was too busy baking this morning,” Dean replied.

“That’s perfect. I was just going to sit down for lunch, and I always take a late lunch. It’s easier on my diabetes when I space out my meals a little more.” She started rummaging around in the fridge.

Dean instantly became worried, “Oh, shi- jeez. I didn’t know. I’m sorry for bringing you pie. I should have asked.”

“Now don’t you worry your pretty little head over any of that. I only had a slice. I can have my cake, I just can’t eat the whole thing,” she told him.

Dean smiled and nodded in relief.

“Would you be a dear and feed the dogs for me?” she asked, pulling out a few Tupperware containers from the fridge. “The kibble bag is in the hall closet next to the bowls.” She pointed to the right of the kitchen doorway.

Dean turned right into the hall and kept walking until he found a large bowl of water and three empty silver dog bowls. They came running as soon as he touched the knob on the closet door. They just appeared out of nowhere, and Dean was tempted to slip some holy water into the dog bowl. He left the dogs munching on kibble and returned to the kitchen. To his surprise the small table was already set with steaming plates of mashed potatoes, some sort of roasted squash, baked chicken and a full gravy boat.

“I was only gone for a minute, right?” Dean joked.

Betty chuckled, “Say what you will about Mormons, but they sure know how to cook.”

“Kami?” he asked and sat down across from her at the little homely table. He scooped some squash onto Betty’s plate for her and piled his own plate high before drowning everything in gravy.

“Yes, she sent her daughter over with a bag full of precooked meals. Their faith group does projects every few weeks, and last week was making precooked meals for all the single old biddies in the neighborhood. So I lucked out. I won’t have to cook for another week! Poor kid was probably making half the deliveries herself on that bike of hers, though. Kami’s daughter, what was her name? I can’t for the life of me remember her name.”

“Tabitha?” Dean offered.

“Yes, Tabitha. That’s it. She’s a sweet little thing. She’s the one that babysits Harold and the girls when I’m away.”

Dean swallowed his suddenly dry mashed potatoes. “Have you heard about her brother, Caleb?” he asked. This is what neighbors do, right? They gossip, trade news. If she didn’t hear it from him then it would be someone else. And it would be strange if he didn’t tell her, right? Maybe he was just overthinking this.

“He passed away last night,” Dean said trying to hide his guilt.

Betty mistook it for sorrow, “Oh, no! The poor dear was only a toddler! What happened?”

“I think it was a heart disorder or something, but I saw Tabitha and her friend earlier and Tabitha hasn’t been taking it too well.”

“I could imagine. The poor child just gets one misfortune after the other. First her father, then her friend, and now her brother.”

“What happened to her father?” Dean asked curiously.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re still new to the neighborhood. I forget that about you sometimes. Well, since you haven’t heard all the gossip I’ll tell you. Her father was in a car accident a while back, had one too many to drink. It was a miracle he even survived, but he lost his left foot. He’s had to learn to get around with a cane and he’s been as bitter as can be about the whole thing. The only good thing that’s come from it is that he hasn’t been drinking as much. Can’t say the same for her grandfather.”

Dean chuckled, “Yeah, I know. We live across the street from him.”

Betty laughed, “Does he still do that thing where he glares at you from his porch, like he’s waiting for you to try and steal his car?”

“Is that really what he’s doing? Because my car is way better,” Dean bragged.

“I don’t know how many years ago it was, but some kids took his car, a little red bug he restored that was his pride and joy, for a joyride. They totaled the poor thing, but nobody got hurt, thank goodness. He hasn’t had the same faith in anyone since.”

“And here I thought he was just looking for a free show,” Dean joked.

“Well there’s that too,” she agreed.

Dean laughed, holding his napkin to his mouth so his mouthful wouldn’t tumble out. He wiped his lips with the faded floral napkin that Betty had folded neatly next to his plate and asked, “Maybe I could ask Tabitha to house sit while we’re gone, just to make sure her grandpa doesn’t try and steal my car.”

“Oh, where are you going?” Betty asked.

Dean leaned his elbows on the table, “I was going to take a trip to Ireland with Cas. He wanted to look at some sort of fungi thing. I guess fairy circles are better than the super bowl for alternatives healers. Have you ever been?” he asked with an air of innocence.

“No, my wife was the traveler. I hear it’s very soggy though, so make sure you pack a warm raincoat,” she advised.

“Will do, ma’am.”

“Now, none of that young man,” Betty chided. “It makes me feel old.”

Dean grinned, “Old? You can’t be a day over thirty.”

Betty giggled, “Cooking and compliments? I may just have to steal you away from that husband of yours.”

Dean shoveled another forkful of squash into his mouth. It tasted just fine with enough gravy.

“And how is Cas?” Betty asked.

“Cas is good. He’s fine,” Dean said. 

“And how are the two of you,” she asked pointedly.

Dean put down his fork and smiled, “We’re getting along better than Bert and Ernie.”

“Is that why you snuck away with a freshly baked pie to gossip with an old lady instead of spending time with your newlywed husband? I mean he’s a real looker, and I can’t imagine this is how you planned to spend the rest of your day.”

“What?” he asked, a bit lost. 

“I’m not blind dear,” she chuckled. “Trouble in paradise?”

Dean shook his head, “No, there’s no trouble. All good here.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Dean, I’ve been around a while. I’ve seen and done it all. What’s wrong?”

He stubbornly smiled, “Nothing at all.”

She gave him a flat look, “You’re jealous.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re arguing about kids,” she guessed again.

She must still not be getting whatever reaction she wanted so she kept going.

“You’re wondering if you made the right choice.”

Dean’s hand tightened minutely on his fork, and she caught it.

“Ah ha!” she crowed. “I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?”

“Not exactly,” he mumbled.

“What’s the problem, dear? You’ve got a handsome spouse that’s head over heels in love with you. You’ve got a nice house in a nice neighborhood. You can adopt kids and even get a dog if you want,” she said.

Dean shuffled in his seat. He stared down at his potato remains and mumbled, “Perfect apple pie life.”

“Is that not what you want?” she asked gently?

“No!” Dean surprised himself. “No,” he said again, quieter, “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I just, I never thought, growing up, that any of this was ever an option. It was always sort of a fairy tale, you know,” he struggled to explain.

Betty nodded, “I know exactly what you mean.” She twisted the gold wedding band on her finger underneath the table.

“And after everything I’ve been through, after everything I’ve done,” he shrugged. “I’m just waiting for it to end.” He just didn’t deserve any of this.

“Are you sure you’re not just afraid of things working out? What if it doesn’t end?” she asked him.

Dean frowned into his drink.

Betty looked down at the ring she was twisting on her finger pensively. “You know, it’s fairly common.”

Dean finally looked up at her.

“People getting married for the wrong reasons. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. Sometimes it’s because they’re afraid of being alone, or because they settle, or because they’re obligated to. You’ve seen how crazy the people here are.” She whispered conspiratorially, “How many of them do you think really got married because they were in love?” 

She got up and motioned for Dean to follow her into the living room. She sat him down on the squishy couch with the heaviest photo album Dean had ever laid eyes on. Abby crawled up on the couch next to him and flopped down.

Betty opened up the book and turned to a page with several professional and unprofessional shots of a wedding. Two old women were dressed in white lace, both wearing matching silver tiaras and smiling like they had caught the sun. Dean recognized one was Betty, just slightly younger. “Ruth and I, we got married because we wanted the legal benefits. Being crazy for each other was a plus.”

Dean smiled as he looked through the pictures. Every face he could see was so deliriously happy. It probably had a lot to do with the Champagne fountain in the background.   
“You know,” she said, “with everything that could have happened, I don’t think falling in love with your husband is the end of the world. Believe it or not, sometimes good things do happen,” she chuckled lightly.

“Not in my experience,” he said quietly.

~~

Cas was explaining to a wide eyed Alec and a serious Tabitha how the elbow was one of the most powerful means of attacking in unskilled hand to hand combat.

“Forcefully moving your arm backward like this,” Cas held out his bent arm and swung it backward slowly to demonstrate, “allows you to hit someone behind you with the equivalent force of a hammer. There is little padding in the elbow area and will greatly harm humans in fragile areas such as the facial area, sternum, kidneys, solar plexus, groin and stomach.”

“Why the sternum?” asked Tabitha. “Isn’t it just a chunk of bone?”

“It’s the approximate location of the heart and a good hit will cause intense pain, and possibly rupture an artery or cause damage to the heart. The fingers are also fragile, and bending them backwards can cause a great amount of pain, which will incapacitate a human. Remember that you must not hesitate to hurt, and pull the finger back sharply. Do not be alarmed by the feeling or sound of snapping bone. I have been told it can be disconcerting.”

Alec shuddered and made a face. “Just thinking about it makes me squirm.”

Cas continued, “The under arm is also fleshy and weak. Pinching the skin here will cause intense pain, so you should grab an area of skin and twist or rip if off.”

“Does the Dullahan have a heart?” Tabitha asked impatiently. “Does the Dullahan even feel pain? How is any of this going to help me?” she yelled.

“Because humans are the worst kind of monster, Tabs,” said Alec.

Cas asked her, “Why do you believe that?”

“Simple,” she shrugged, “Monsters don’t think like we do. They have a purpose and they do it. No responsibility, no regret. But people, people know exactly what they’re doing. They know what they’re doing is wrong, but they do it anyways.”

“They abuse their free will because they can,” Cas said.

“Is it really worth letting people like that run around, just so we can decide to like the color green or something stupid?” Tabitha asked bitterly.

“Yes.”

They both looked at Cas. “I’ve traded everything just for the chance to think for myself. You would do the same in a heartbeat if you could know what it’s like to be without a choice.”

“Huh, I guess you really did give up everything just to like the color green,” Tabitha said, a secretive smile curling on her lips.

Tabitha looked at Alec in confusion, “I don’t get it.”

“Man, just read the books!” Alec said, lightly shoving Tabitha.

Cas had them practice holds on each other, to make sure they understood how to escape. Then he let them try sparring with knives. He only gave them the small daggers, like the kinds Dean would strap to his ankle. They were far too hesitant, too afraid to hurt each other. It was so strange to see. It wasn’t like Dean or Sam’s careful practiced motions, where they knew they wouldn’t hurt each other. This was clumsy and cautious. Was Dean ever like that? Too young to hold a blade and fear for his loved ones? 

After a while they decided to stop for snacks. They went inside and Tabitha made sure to get her own water out of the fridge after rinsing the mug out in the sink. Alec was laughing at the mugs so hard she couldn’t even drink. 

“Come, on. It’s not that funny,” Tabitha insisted.

“But it says I’m so gay I shit rainbows!” Alec burst into a fit of laugher. 

Tabitha harrumphed and sat herself down at the table with her “Vagitarian” mug and steadfastly refused to crack a smile.

Alec finally picked out a cup and filled it with ice cold water. She walked over to where Tabitha was sitting and leaned in close. She put her plain white mug to her lips and tipped it up. It was the mug with GAY written on the bottom. Tabitha coughed on her water and spilled the mug all over herself. Alec helped her clean up.

Tabitha was staring at the small knife in her hands. Her world was turned upside down in just days. It wasn’t fair. “Why is it here?” she asked Cas.

“We’re not entirely sure, but we believe the Dullahan followed someone back from its home in Ireland after it was unsuccessful in its attempt on the victim’s life,” he said.

“So if it got that person it’s been chasing, then it’ll go back?” she asked.

“Perhaps,” was the vague answer.

“Hey, that’s weird. My mom was just in Ireland,” said Alec.

The sudden silence was followed by a flutter of wings. “Shit, what did I say?” Alec asked, eyes wide.

“It’s getting late,” Tabitha noticed, watching the sky turn a fiery orange. 

“Shit, you don’t think my mom did this on purpose, do you?” Alec looked at Tabitha, panic swirling in her stomach.

“No, you heard what he said. It might have followed her here, but they can kill it with the magic sword they have,” she insisted.

“The angel blade,” Alec said. “It’s a silver blade, yea long.” She held up her hands over a foot apart.

“You know what they look like, so maybe they have one in that room upstairs,” Tabitha said, getting up.

“Hey, that’s not a good idea,” Alec said, grabbing her arm. “We don’t know if it’s booby trapped or what.”

“One way to find out, right?” Tabitha said, already heading for the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close! Okay, so someone might die in the next chapter. I haven't decided yet. All I know is that the Dullahan is coming tonight and someone's getting fucked over.


	18. Moving Out

Alec followed Tabitha up the stairs and they stopped in front of the only closed door. Alec swallowed nervously. “We should just go home. This isn’t right. We don’t even know when they’re coming back,” Alec reasoned.

Tabitha ignored her and put her hand on the doorknob. “This should be the right room.”

The door swung open with an ominous creak.

Alec whispered, “Holy Shit, man!”

The room was packed with all manner of weaponry stacked haphazardly. The walls and window were coated with symbols written in red and black. There was a weird smell in the air and salt lines traced the perimeter of the room.

Tabitha stepped into the room first. “I still think they’re terrorists.”

Alec followed her, grabbing onto her sleeve. “I’d say Satan worshipers from the looks of this place, but I already know better. Shit, fuck! Is that the colt?!” Alec asked in an excited whisper. She let go of Tabitha and picked up the gun with reverence.

“Put that back!” Tabitha told her. “You don’t even know how to use a gun, and besides, we need something that can kill the Dullahan.”

Alec was rooting around in the piles, geeking over what she recognized from the books. “Actual silver bullets! Tabitha they have silver bullets!”

Tabitha yanked her up and dragged her over to the pile of sharp pointy weaponry. “Angel blade. Save family,” she reminded Alec.

“Shit, right. Okay,” she carefully sorted through knives, machetes, daggers, and whatever else she could find. She picked up one knife and let out a squeal.

“Did you find it?” Tabitha asked.

“No, it’s Ruby’s demon knife!” Alec practically screamed.

Tabitha rubbed her forehead. “But can it kill the Dullahan?” she asked slowly.

Alec thought about it. “Actually, I don’t know. I mean it can kill demons and some pretty nasty stuff, so maybe?”

Tabitha took the knife and they kept looking.

Alec picked up a small satchel and looked inside. Tabitha tensed at the bloodcurdling scream. Alec had dropped the satchel and scrambled back against the wall.

“Feet,” Alec whispered. “Chicken feet.”

Tabitha got up and peeked through the closed blinds. It was dark outside. Her phone was dead and her mom was probably two seconds away from calling the police and reporting her missing. She helped Alec up and they kicked the satchel and the chicken’s feet that had fallen out back into the piles and grabbed a few knives that looked like they might be useful.

They went back downstairs and Tabitha opened the front door.

“Wait!” Alec stopped Tabitha. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we just stayed here and waited for angel transport. We’d probably just get in the way anyways. And we don’t even know if we have a good enough weapon to stop this thing, I mean we don’t even have any gold!”

Tabitha reached around her neck and yanked off the thin gold chain she was wearing. She dumped the little cross with her name written on it in Alec’s hand and shoved the broken chain in her own pocket. Alec ran to catch up when she started walking.

~~

Dean was washing off the dishes from dinner with Betty when the doorbell rang.

“Now who could that be?” she asked aloud.

She left to get the door and Dean kept washing. As far as he knew, the Dullahan didn’t ring doorbells.

“Oh, come in! Come in. He’s just in the kitchen. I’ll go get him for you, just you wait right here,” he heard Betty say. There was only one other person that would come find his sorry ass besides Sammy.

Betty came back into the kitchen, “Dean, your husband came to pick you up.”

Dean grabbed a mostly dry dishtowel and dried off his hands, “So I heard.”

She straightened his shirt and shoved the rewrapped pie into his hands. “Now, remember our little conversation and actually try to talk to the man.” She slapped his ass as he walked out of the kitchen, “Go get him tiger.”

Dean laughed at that, but it died in his throat when he saw Cas. Cas had on his serious face, and that either meant that shit was going to hit the fan or he wanted to talk. He sure hoped it was the first thing.

“It was great talking to you. Sorry for staying so long, I probably cut down on your supply of premade meals,” Dean joked.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. She’ll be back with more since they do it twice a month, and it’s not like I had any other dinner plans,” Betty reassured him. “Make sure you bring me the next pie you make too. I have a feeling you’ll be able to rival my skills one day.”

“I look forward to it,” Dean said with a grin.

He walked out into the crisp night air with Cas’s hand on the small of his back and a pie in hand.

As soon as the door closed Dean moved away and asked, “What happened?”

“Alec’s mother, Kate Miller. She recently returned from a trip to Ireland,” he said.

“Ah, shit,” Dean said, clutching the edges of the pie dish. “I fucking told Sam. It’s always the crazy fans.”

“Actually, it was her mother, who has little to no interest in the…” Cas trailed off as Dean gave him a bored look.

“Right, so now we have to figure out how to patrol their house without looking suspicious,” Dean mused. “I mean you could always go stealth mode, but I can’t just sit and wait around.”

“Dean, we don’t even have a weapon that we know will work against this creature,” Cas reminded him.

“But we also don’t have a weapon that we know will not work,” Dean argued.

“We need to find something that is guaranteed to work before we even attempt to fight this creature.”

Dean felt it before he heard it. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and the air turned thick and cold.

_Dean James Winchester_

He heard the thundering of hooves and a horrible screeching cackle. He dropped the pie to cover his ears. The glass pie dish shattered on the concrete sidewalk. He and Cas whipped around to see a sight straight out of Hell barreling straight towards them.

“Shit!” Dean yelled.

Someone screamed, Dean turned back around and saw Alec clinging onto Tabitha and screaming.

“Shit!” he yelled again.

Cas shoved him into the bushes and stood facing the twisted carriage, made of shattered bones and poorly stitched flesh. As it came closer Dean could see the individual faces stretched across the frame. They were moving, looking with empty eye sockets. Their mouths hung open, and Dean realized he was screaming along with them. He couldn’t move. Frozen in place, he watched the carriage draw closer and closer. The head was held aloft, and those soulless black eyes shifted restlessly, always darting back to him.

The Dullahan drove over the bushes and a mailbox, right up alongside Dean. The driver held out his warped head to Dean. He couldn’t breathe. It smiled an ugly grin, splitting its face in half, and opened wide. He could smell the putrid rotting flesh and see the browned and sharpened teeth. He was going to die.

Suddenly the face dropped out of the Dullahan’s grasp. The dim light of the flames from the carriage illuminated Cas’s figure. He had jumped up on the driver’s seat and grasped the monster by the lapels of its ratty coat. The look on Cas’s face was pure rage, and in that moment Dean could’ve sworn he saw the shadow of Castiel’s wings again.

Dean still couldn’t move, but sound was coming back to him again and he could breathe deep greedy gasps.

“Tabitha!” he heard Alec shriek.

He could barely move his head, but he looked to the side and watched as Tabitha crawled over to where he was, fighting the heavy air that pinned Dean down. She grabbed the angel blade that Cas had dropped and plunged it into the cackling head that had rolled away when the creature dropped it.

Time stopped for Dean. There was a noise. At least there must’ve been since all he could hear was that faint buzzing that came after a particularly loud explosion. It was white for a few seconds, but that faded, and he could see again. He could move. He sat up with a groan and looked around him. Alec was standing a ways off. She was probably in shock. Tabitha was just to his left, panting and shaking, but still gripping Cas’s angel blade with the determination of a dying man. The air was full of lazily burning cinders and dancing ash. He blinked his vision clear and saw Cas, in the road. He was standing in a pile of burning tar, spattered in dark, rotten blood and goo. Their eyes met and Dean smiled. He smiled a huge goofy grin, and Cas smiled right back. They were all alive.

Dean flopped down on his back and started giggling. Tabitha was looking at him like he was crazy and Alec was still standing in the same place. Cas came over and checked on him. And Dean didn’t even mind that he picked him up bridal style when he teleported them all back to the house.

Dean had a warm mug of something that made him feel light and happy. Tabitha was hugging Alec and sobbing her eyes out on the couch. Alec was still in shock. She wasn’t crying or talking, just staring at nothing.

Eventually Alec fell asleep and Cas gave Tabitha the same thing Dean had. She didn’t get happy, but she did stop crying.

“How are you not dead?” she asked Dean eventually.

“Tried it a couple times. Wasn’t much fun.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Dean shook his head, “A lifetime of hunting and a guardian angel only do so much when the rest of the world wants you dead.”

“You’re insane,” she decided. She watched the gentle rise and fall of the mound of blankets heaped on Alec on the couch. “Cas can make people forget things, right?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to forget,” he told her. “It’s not something most people can deal with.”

“It’s not something anyone can deal with,” Tabitha said. “But thanks, I guess. For doing it anyways.”

“How much of it do you want gone?” he asked.

“All of it. Your names, your faces, everything that happened. I don’t want to know how my brother died. I don’t want to know how Alec almost died and I don’t want to know that monsters are real. And I don’t want Alec to remember any of that either.”

“Hey, you’ve gotta ask her for that. Even if you want to forget, she might not,” Dean warned.

Tabitha looked at him with a cold, hard stare, “She doesn’t need to remember that her hero is fucked up or that her best friend turned into a psychopath when her brother died. She can’t even process what happened. She doesn’t deserve to be broken, not when you can give her that.”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Dean said wistfully.

“Maybe not,” Tabitha said, “but it sure is easier.”

~~

The next morning Tabitha and Alec ate the breakfast Dean made. Cas cleaned up the tar and ash from the road and replaced the poor melted mailbox that had been destroyed. He brought back the knives Alec and Tabitha had taken yesterday tool. He changed into his usual holy tax accountant outfit and shrugged on the trench coat. Alec actually smiled at that.

After breakfast Cas approached them both.

Tabitha asked him, “You’re sure that we’ll forget everything?”

Alec looked at her in confusion.

Cas nodded and Tabitha grabbed Alec’s shoulders and kissed her. Alec looked more confused than Cas had when he discovered toasters.

Tabitha stepped back and grinned, “Alright, hit me.”

Alec suddenly caught on, “Hey, hold the fuck, wait! You can’t just do that and MIB memory wipe me!”

Cas put a hand on each of their heads. Tabitha stood still and closed her eyes. Alec struggled to move his hand, but found it was like trying to bend steel. “You bastards!” she screamed. They both crumpled backwards onto the couch.

Dean watched as Cas teleported them back to their respective houses and then waited for him to come back after using his jedi mind trick on the parents to explain their disappearances last night. Dean made himself more of the tea that made him all floaty. It was a nice feeling, and it made that sound of cackling fade. He drank deep and slow, and listened to the nails on a chalkboard sound quiet to a dull scratch.

Cas came back and Dean smiled at him. Cas smiled back and joined him in the kitchen. “Don’t drink too much of that,” he warned.

“Mmkay,” Dean mumbled. He huffed and put the mug down. “I’m jealous of them.”

Cas cocked his head, “Why?”

“They get to forget, everything,” Dean sighed wistfully.

Cas took the glass pie dish he had fixed last night out of the sink and put it away in the cabinet. “I’m sorry, but I could not save the pie,” he apologized.

“No, but you saved my ass, again.”

“I’m only returning the favor,” Cas said and leaned against the counter next to Dean.

Dean rubbed his shoulder and asked, “Cas, are we angel married?”

Cas looked at him like he always did, “There is no word in Enochian for ‘married,’ but we do share a profound bond.”

Dean laughed lightly, “Is that a yes?”

Instead of responding Cas reached over and took Dean’s hand. He slipped the rings off of Dean’s finger and kneeled down in front of him on one knee.

Dean had two thoughts in that moment. One was highly inappropriate and had to do with blowjobs. The other was mostly just a stream of, “FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKSHITFUCKFUCK!”

They didn’t say anything. Dean let Cas take his hand and slip the rings back on. They fit perfectly into the grooves they had left around his finger already.

Cas stood back up and Dean kept staring at his hand. He laughed, “Fuck, Sam was right. You did propose first.”

Cas put his hands on the counter behind Dean and leaned in. Their lips met and Dean’s hands found their way to Cas’s hips.

Dean pulled away, breathless. “Just, so we’re clear. You asked for this.”

They were both smiling into the next kiss.

Dean blamed it on the happy tea, and after that he blamed it on the rings, and after that he stopped looking for scapegoats.

~~

If Sam noticed that Dean and Cas kept the rings, he never said anything about it. He never mentioned that sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night and saw Cas sitting on Dean’s bed. He never mentioned that sometimes Cas looked mysteriously more rumpled than usual when he came back from the gas station. He was reaching his limit with the smell in the backseat of the impala though, but he wasn’t going to say anything. He was just happy that his brother finally found a little bit of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I'm way too ace to do actual smut. But I wanted to leave it kinda hazy. Like you know exactly how it plays out anyways. I just went with the popular opinion on what Dean's middle name should be. It was a toss up between John and James, but John's fucked up his life enough already. I hope the epilogue fucks all ya'll up though. : P


	19. Epilogue

The woman, a hot bottle blonde with perfect curves and hazel eyes, put down the last page.

“So, what did you think?” the man sitting next to her asked eagerly.

She turned to face him and pushed him back into the couch, climbing over him and leaning down to whisper, “I think it’s kinky when you write fanfiction.”

She sat back up and rolled her hips. The scraggly man underneath her whimpered and arched into the movement.

“That’s a yes then?” he asked again, just to be sure.

She laughed and peeled off her shirt. She stood up and the man visibly gulped as he watched her shorts drop to the floor. She kicked them aside and started walking to the bedroom, dropping her bra along the way. “That’s a yes,” she said over her shoulder. 

Chuck jumped up and scrabbled after her, accidentally knocking over the stack of papers the woman had been reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck I actually finished it! YAY! Thanks to everybody for reading and commenting. You guys rock! You may now yell at me at your discretion. [Tumblr here](http://snail-writes-shit.tumblr.com/) if that makes it any easier. I'm actually pretty happy with how it all turned out, even if it did feel rushed in some parts. And again I can't thank you all enough for the encouragement and feedback.


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